Paradox
by A.R. Fredrick II
Summary: Will Static be unmasked, his identity revealed to the world? What was Starfire thinking when she left Titans Tower and can Beast Boy cheer her up? Will Robin ever reach Gotham? Will we see Terra again? Read and review! Teen Titans/Static Shock/Batman
1. Prologue: Lament of a Raven

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** The End - I II III

**Disclaimer: **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own stock in Microsoft."

**Foreword & Notes:**

I've come back to this story after letting it wander on its own for a few years. And in the time that I've been away, my talents have grown and my ideas have matured. As such, I've decided to remaster the story to better attune it with my current writing style. I will not change the overall plot of the chapters already written. But I do plan on refreshing them, and giving them more depth and substance.

A new Beta is always welcome. Please Enjoy!

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**Paradox**

_A NOVEL BY: A.R. Fredrick_

_**Prologue**_

**Lament of a Raven**

_Remastered Version_**  
**

_Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future,  
Concentrate the mind on the present moment. - Buddha_

_Bring me to Life - Evanescence_

_

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_

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

She sat straight and still on her bed; while she willed the words of her mantra to cut through the soft silence that surrounded her. Her eyes were closed tightly against the world, embracing the darkness within herself, as she meditated to free the light that had been trapped inside of her for many years. If she were to open her eyes, they would behold earthly possessions and keepsakes dear to her, that were bathed in ebony shadows. Nothing save a lone candle illuminated the sanctuary of her otherwise lonely room.

It was the candle that she focused on, the purpose of her meditation this night was to picture the candle within her mind, to allow the flickering alabaster flame to aide her in her quest to find peace of mind and spirit. However the flame that she envisioned filling her psyche burned brighter than the one belonging to the candle, it was living radiance in hues of yellow, orange and red. The strength of the flame was staggering for her to imagine, and as her mind reached out for the peace and tranquility it represented, she longed to be bathed in its healing phoenix fire.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos." She repeated.

The practice of her meditation had been a part of her life for years and the mantra she embraced was the first string of words she could ever remember formulating. Just as the meditation had been a part of her life for years, as had the mantra, and together they had become a routine. She looked upon the act of meditation as a daily chore to be accomplished and it was true that some days she had more zeal for the process than others.

However, the fundamental essence of the act had changed. She used to meditate to hold back the malignant darkness within her, to exhaust the ravenous blackness of the evil that stained her soul. Meditation was her way to hold that darkness at bay, and to suppress it for another day. She was not evil by nature, at least that was what she had always willed herself to believe, but it was never an idea she could find promise in. The evil that resided within her was her stigma, a curse that was bestowed upon her by her lineage. Recent events had changed this endless cycle and now she meditated to find peace.

Her true name was Raven, a girl of featherless breeding, unlike the winged counterpart with which she shared the moniker. Her mother was an innocent woman named Arella, lured and corrupted at the whim of her biological father, Trigon the Terrible.

Since her birth, she had been told by all those around her that evil resided within her. An evil that was so vast, foul and tainted, that she was helpless to fight against it. Her purpose was to keep the darkness locked away from the rest of existence, in the prisons of her mind and soul. She was born of evil and baptized into darkness, proof of this was the mark etched upon her by her own father. From the moment of her first breath, she had heard his disembodied voice forever within her mind, and countless other voices, a symphony of suffering that awaited her in the future. The voices sang to her, and told her that she was meant to do horrible and unspeakable things. And that she would help bring an end to all things mortal.

She had spent her life fighting against this grim fate. Training her body and mind to repress not only the darkness within herself, but also the emotions within her heart. But eventually circumstances came to pass, and the entire situation was out of her control. She beheld the prophecies that she had been foretold, and felt the helplessness of utter defeat. The calamity upon her finally, she succumbed to what she thought was inevitable and opened a door between realities.

She had freed her evil creator from his otherworldly prison. The being that sired her existence was a foul and heinous demon. Trigon was the embodiment of evil, devoid of empathy, pity and compassion. The beast was fueled by suffering, malice and devilish designs of total destruction.

The guilt she still felt for letting it happen and for letting him free was without measure, and it pained her to know that it was all due to a single moment of weakness. All her life she had tried to avoid it and do good by helping people, but in the end it was all in vain. She had failed because she had allowed her weakness to rule her, and gave up fighting. She had always heard that the road to hell was paved with good intentions and it wasn't until that day that she finally understood the depth of those words.

She'd had good intentions but she still set him free. And Trigon reaped the benefits of her mistake. He sowed the seeds of fire, and set the world to burn in hopes of a fruitful harvest of pain and suffering. The entire Earth was engulfed and ravaged by fire and brimstone straight from the bowels of hell. And though her mind and body told her that the end was nigh, she had saved the lives of her friends through one final desperate act of defiance against the Armageddon around her.

And even though she had let go of her final shred of hope, her friends never gave up. They raged against the dying of the light and fought a war that she thought was utterly futile. And even though she had brought this darkness to pass, failed her friends and the world, they had not forsaken her.

_He did not abandon her..._

After opening the doorway for Trigon's ascension to Earth and rescuing her friends from the initial onslaught of his wrath, she had escaped into the recesses of her mind to cope with the horror of it all. She had reverted to the mind of a child, hiding in the memories of an adolescence long gone. Robin had found her among the broken ruins of the world, and shined a light of hope through the darkness of her mind.

She was destined to be undone by Trigon, and that would've surely held true and come to pass, if not for the intervention of Robin. He forced her to look past what she had previously accepted to be inevitable and to cast aside her doubts and worries. That there was still a chance and still hope to survive, if they believed in it and did not let go. He reminded her that she was cared for.

In the end she had gone with Robin, to stand together with her friends, and face the abomination that called itself a God. They were united together as Titans, but she still watched helplessly while her friends fought. They were struck down one by one, as she tried to master her fear and battle the demonic beast, she watched them fall in horror.

As that happened something inside of her broke, emotions that had always been held dormant surged to life with a new force. She ran to Robin full of intent and purpose, to plead with him to stand and fight once more, but he lay broken and devastated. Even now Raven could remember shaking him; and crying as Trigon approached. Her tears had been let loose then and not forced into submission, and the fell wildly unto his face, eyes, and lips.

She did not have time to contemplate her fallen friends, what little time she did have was scarce and precious. She could remember the sound of the beast as it had lurked behind her and moved in for the kill. He taunted her as he did so and spewed hate-filled remarks about her, while praising himself in practically the same instance. Then Raven had heard him utter something harsh and unthinkable, the beast had called itself her father. Her rage at that statement had been unfathomable, it was a white-hot fire that burned without limits, and set her blood to boil.

She knew no more petty fear or doubt. She harbored no more guilt or shame. All that mattered was that she did not wish to let it end there. She would not fade into the darkness or give into the misery that had been promised to her. She had realized then in that time of blinding anger that her life was her own. The choices were hers to make, she could choose that path that she wished to follow. She knew then that the life which she sought and the destiny which she secretly hoped to embrace would never be discovered if she died.

When Trigon finally struck out against her, she had deflected his blow with a burst of ivory psionic energy that had radiated from within her. The powerful psychic attack was fueled by her emotions, and with them she had found the strength to fight back. She purged her feelings and channeled them into volley after volley of psychic blows, which brought the demon to his knees.

She defeated him, and tore his dark kingdom asunder. She made use of the power of the blissful white light within herself to restore order to the world, and correct the damage that Trigon had wrought. It was a power that she didn't understand, and didn't know how to access again. Maybe it was better that way, she hadn't given it much thought. However, she did remember the feeling of joyful happiness that enveloped her when she saw her friends rise from the ashes of the destruction mostly unharmed. She had smiled broadly, she felt happy and free, gone was the sense of shame that accompanied her origins, the feeling of helplessness was no more and she finally felt as if she were in control of her own destiny.

She remembered looking at them all then, after Trigon had been defeated, and the sun began to shine anew, they had not given up on her and they had never stopped believing that the evil could be defeated, but most importantly they had never left her side. She had smiled at them all broadly then and had felt such love for everyone.

The smile from her past carried over to the present and crossed her lips in the darkness of her bed chamber. She tried to push back the memories, and regain the focus she had squandered while wool-gathering. She attempted to regulate her breathing and slow her heartbeat. But it was no use, the thoughts echoing rampantly in her mind doused the light and peace her meditation had provided.

She repeated her mantra softly. Once. Twice. Three times. She continued the repetition further, but to no avail, the tranquility of her meditative state been lost. She growled softly, a wordless surrender to her psyche as she gave up her efforts at enlightenment and released herself from the bonds of her inner mind.

Over time she returned to her isolated reality and became aware of her surroundings once more. She opened her eyes and her gaze fell upon the candle, and the window directly behind it. The glass windowpane was covered with countless droplets of beaded water, indication that a light rain had fallen sometime during her trance. Ebony clouds hung in the patch of sky that was visible from the window, but they had humbly parted to allow the moon some visibility.

Moonbeams fell into her sanctuary. Sunlight which had shined from sol, was reflected by luna and had traveled millions of miles to shine through her bedroom window in a soft waxen light, that was diffused by the myriad of raindrops beaded on her windowpane and conglomerated with the soft glow of her candle flame.

The simple convergence had left her taken aback and she found herself becoming smitten by its otherworldly beauty. It was in that moment as the barest of breath caught in her throat, that she wished she had a companion to share the scene with her. As the idea took wing in her mind and began to flutter she squashed it, she was used to being alone. Used to her solitary life. Accustomed to hiding herself and her emotions, keeping everything bottled within.

"This is crazy!" She declared her proclamation serenely.

Trigon had been defeated by her own hand. Order and balance had been restored with his downfall and everything was once again as it should be. But... But... It wasn't really the same anymore, was it? Things had changed. And with the knowledge that this was the case, it made her question her actions. Why was she still forcing herself to hide in exile?

She knew that misplaced guilt from the past should no longer sway her, or her emotions. Those emotions which she had hidden and had gone to great lengths to disavow, she had even attempted to deny their existence totally. She held them at bay because she was afraid of what they were capable of, afraid of letting them control or influence her powers. Afraid that she would use those powers for unspeakable things.

But.. Maybe that was just an excuse... Maybe she used that idea as a reason to be alone, to distance herself from others and stay separated from everyone else. Trigon was evil of his own choice, it was not the hand of fate that caused this, nor was it some cosmic being bent on the idea of destiny. Trigon was a malign being from a naturally horrible dimension that relished death and bathed in the blood of innocents.

As the bell on her wall clock chimed away the midnight hour, Raven came to the question which plagued her, was she evil merely because she was his daughter? She had struggled with this question for years, it had eaten away at her, chewed through her heart to the core of her being. She had always sought the definitive answer to this question though it had always eluded her.

With the battle against her father won, she realized that their fates were not intertwined, perhaps her father had given her powers of darkness, but the light within her soul cleansed her of any doubt and made those powers her own.

She was not evil. The idea dawned on her as a fevered epiphany, as she recounted her memories of the battle with her father once more. The mysterious white light was of her own making. The pure untainted energy had come from within her and was part of her essence, her life force.

Raven realized the simple truth.

She was pure. She was bright. She was good.

Today was a new day...


	2. Chapter 1: Robin Remembers

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG 13

**Chapter Spoilers:** Aftershock I - II, Haunted

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a 2006 Lotus Elise."

**Foreword & Notes  
**

Here is the first chapter in my story. I hope you all enjoy it, it features Robin, so that should please some of his die-hard fans. Feel free to Read & Review. Questions and comments are always welcome. Also, I'm still in need of a Beta. Anybody interested? Drop me a line.

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Chapter One

Robin Remembers

_A man who won't die for something  
Is not fit to live. - Martin Luther King, Jr_

_In the End - Linkin Park _

Richard Grayson, the man also known as Robin, had also spent most of the night alone. It seemed that after the horrific battle they had all faced the previous evening, his friends had needed a chance to reflect. They had all watched the sunrise together this morning. Thinking back on the day, Richard is surprised to recall how profoundly the sunrise had affected him. It triggered in him an emotional response that he was neither prepared for, nor accustomed to.

They stood together on the rooftop of the Tower, the five of them side by side, facing the rising sun. They were without words, but it suited them, because little needed to be said. As the sun rose to greet them, Richard had felt a childlike sense of wonder at the promise of a new day.

He had been compelled to remove his mask, and had done so, facing his friends openly. Glad for their company and companionship, glad that they had overcome the burden that had faced them. And one by one, he stood together with them, as they passed to reenter the lower depths of the Tower.

Cyborg came first and though he didn't say much to Robin in passing, he offered a friendly handshake, and a small Booyah. And then it was Starfire, feeling the need to express to him how glorious the sunrise had been, and also how glorious it would be to get some breakfast. Beast Boy came next, shuffling his feet a little, still nervous from the whole ordeal, but offering a joke nonetheless, as a measure of reassurance that things were indeed returning to normal.

Raven came last. She stood together with him in a rapt silence that seemed to stretch the length of minutes into hours on end. Feeling lost for words, he could only offer a kind smile to her, one which she almost seemed grateful to return.

"This must be a new record. It's the second time you've smiled today" He winked at her.

"You're right, but this is the first time I haven't tried to hide it." Raven replied with a mock defiance, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I noticed, any special occasion?" He asked.

"I never knew your eyes were blue." She told him, avoiding his question.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

"I wouldn't mind finding them out." She paused. "Anyways Boy Wonder, I just wanted to thank you again, for not giving up on me. It means a lot."

"I meant it earlier, you are full of hope Raven, I just kept you from letting it go."

He remembered how her smile had faltered slightly, after he told her that small truth, he also remembered how surprised he had been at her reaction. She had started to walk by him silently, and Richard had remembered thinking that it was the end of their conversation, but she had proven him wrong once more that morning.

As she walked by him, she stopped suddenly, once more turning to face him. He stood still, watching her with a sideways glance. She still said nothing, only hugged him once more. Unexpected and abrupt, he returned the hug, holding her close for a moment.

She had clasped her hands around her neck, and they stood there, looking at each other. He had wanted to say more, groping helplessly for the words to express himself. But the smell of sausage had wafted up from the kitchen below, and the moment was interrupted by the growling of his stomach. She had giggled slightly at this, letting him go. Feeling the need to do so, he had returned his mask to its rightful place. The enchantment broken between them, they made their way downstairs, and had enjoyed their morning together. Laughing, smiling, eating.

Boy, had there been a great deal of eating. Garfield Logan, the Beast Boy had eaten what seemed like twenty pounds of tofu. In all different varieties. Tofu pancakes, tofu eggs, tofu waffles… a vegetarian banquet of soy goodness.

Victor Stone, the Cyborg-turned-chef had made a veritable buffet of dishes. French toast, real Belgian waffles, bacon, eggs, sausage, and potatoes in every form fried, mashed, and hashed. Victor had eaten enough for a small army himself. The mashed potatoes, while not really a breakfast item, were made for Starfire.

Starfire was quite a handful. Alien from a distant planet, and also unforgettable. Koriand'r as she was known on her home planet of Tamaran, Kori Anders to the people of Earth, and Star to those close to her. Robin counted her as a dear friend, but was still amazed by her appetites at times. Cyborg had made the aforementioned mashed potatoes for Starfire. When asked why he had made her mashed potatoes for breakfast, Cyborg had cited that since she insisted on putting gravy on everything, she may as well have a dish that the gravy actually went with. Robin had laughed at this concept, and watched in horror as Starfire added her beloved brown gravy to her meal. Not only had the mashed potatoes gotten a healthy dose, but so did the waffles, eggs, pancakes, and even the Cocoa Puffs.

Robin himself had eaten pancakes and sausage with a nice dose of maple syrup, and a tall glass of orange juice. A perfectly normal and healthy breakfast. He smiled while eating it, partaking in conversation with his friends, who had become his family…

And then there was Raven. The enigma. It occurred to him that before the whole ordeal with Trigon took place, he knew very little of her. He had watched her from the corner of his eye during the breakfast party. She sat quietly, drinking her herbal tea and eating a blueberry muffin, smiling a little, which was still uncharacteristic for her.

Shortly after their meal had ended, they went their separate ways, each still needing time to recover from the past few days. While the rest of the Titans had chose to seclude themselves in the tower, Robin had returned to the rooftop, spending the afternoon, and the early part of the evening there.

He had fled after sunset, when the rain began to fall. So engrossed in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed the light drizzle at first. But when the storm grew stronger, the rainfall equal to that of an Amazon downpour, he escaped to the dry comfort of his room.

Sitting on that roof, he had pondered many things. And even now, as he exercised, he was still considering everything. He had been doing stomach crunches and humming softly to himself. He liked to exercise; it helped him to focus, think more clearly, and work off excess energy.

Stopping his crunches abruptly, Robin jumped up. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he also rotated his neck to loosen his shoulders. Several vertebrae popped slightly, much to his satisfaction. He grabbed the towel which he had thrown on his bed when he casually began his workout, and wiped the sweat from his brow.

He needed another shower. He still felt dirty. The battle with Trigon had taken a great deal out of him. Both physically and emotionally. It had been quite an ordeal for his team, and he saw it as a turning point. It had made them stronger, brought them closer. Showed them that they had the power to do anything, if they did it together.

Together? Were they really together as they should be? His eyes surveyed the boundaries of the room. His walls were bare. No longer adorned with the news clippings, photos, and police reports related to the criminal Slade. He had destroyed the macabre shrine some time ago, shortly after the hallucinogenic that Slade had poisoned him with had left his system.

Slade had poisoned Terra as well. But it had run more deeply within her. It had changed her, warped her mind. Not a physical poison, but a mental one. One that attacked her heart, and her morals. Slade appealed to her with the promise of control. The chance to control her life, control her powers. But the whole time, Slade had been in control of her. She had submitted to him, and became his puppet.

She had broken free. But they had lost her in the process. She had sacrificed herself, to save the city from the wrath of an underground volcano. In the process of doing so, it had turned her to stone. But how? Science didn't explain it. No mystical magic was involved. Why was she left as stone?

They couldn't explain it. For all their power, they couldn't find a cause. So what did they do? Erected a monument in her honor, on that blood-soaked battlefield. They also vowed to save her. To reverse the effect of whatever had caused her to mutate into stone. Starfire had left her roses. Beast Boy had said his tearful goodbye. They had promised to save her. But was that a promise that they ever really expected to keep?

He moved quietly toward the bathroom. Stepping inside, he flicked the light switch adjacent to the door. The main bath for the tower was larger than this one, and sported a huge whirlpool tub, which was great therapy for strained muscles. It would certainly help him relax right now. But he wanted privacy more than anything else. His bathroom was small, but clean. White tile covered the floor. The shower stall was enclosed, and an opaque frosted glass door hid green tiling inside, and an array of soaps, and shampoos. The lighting was fluorescent, and left every part of the room bathed in light.

He went over to the sink, and eyed himself in the mirror. For some reason, he had spent the entire day in his costume, but he was no worse for it. Less dirty laundry to fuss with later. Smiling to himself, he begins to strip off his clothing at a rather frantic pace. His boots, pants, socks, boxers. Then jacket, shirt, and undershirt. The clothes lay piled on the floor in a massive heap, and Robin stood there, in front of the mirror, naked except for his mask.

Finally stripping his mask and adding it to the pile, he stepped away from the mirror, and gathered up the clothing, depositing it all in the hamper next to the shower stall. His boots remained on the tile floor, but he paid them no mind, meaning to collect them later. He opened the door of the shower stall, and turned on the water. Cold first, then the hot. Fiddling with both knobs until finally finding a comfortable temperature, he stepped underneath the water. Closing the door of the shower, he leaned against the tile wall, and let the water assault his body.

Underneath the flow of water, his thoughts drifted back to the events that had taken place this morning, and once more to his moments together with Raven. They hadn't really spoken of what had happened between them after they left the rooftop, but his thoughts about it also inhabited a corner of his mind.

Now that they had defeated Trigon, Raven could have a new beginning. And even though Slade was still lurking about, Richard felt as if he had a chance to start over as well. He had a feeling that Slade was going to lay low for a little while. Which would give him a chance to regroup.

He had made too many mistakes as Robin. Gotten too involved. He had let Slade push his buttons, forced his mind to the limits. Worse than that, he hadn't been able to save Terra from Slade. He knew she had problems, knew she was still unbalanced from her ordeals, and Slade had planted his evil within her, under his very nose.

When had he last been in his prime as Robin? Back when he was fighting alongside Batman. They called him the Boy Wonder. But these days? He was a leader. A man. If he remained behind the mask of Robin he was doomed to make the same mistakes.

He grabbed a bar of soap from the dish above his head, and began to lather his body, starting with his arms and torso, and working his way down to his legs. The water had done him good; the heat had seeped into his body, and relaxed his muscles. Now he needed to get clean.

Covered in suds from the neck down, he sat the bar of soap aside, and chose a bottle of shampoo. Dispensing some from the green container, he placed it back on the shelf next to the soap dish. Working the shampoo into his spiky black hair, he stepped under the water again, and let it rinse him clean.

Twenty minutes later, he emerged from the shower with a plan. Glancing at the clock on his nightstand, he noted that it was after midnight. It was just as well. A new day had begun. …


	3. Chapter 2: Midnight Rendezvous

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a tropical desert island."

**Foreword & Notes **

Without further adieu I'd like to present the second chapter in my story. I'd like to mention that while it may be picking up pace rather slowly, it is a long and involved story, and I am purposefully trying to build suspense, and make it as involved of a tale as I can. As the story unfolds, I believe it will leave many of you feeling quite intrigued with the twists and turns I've added. I won't leave spoilers for future chapters, but I will tell you they will be worth waiting for. As far as the waiting goes, I've been updating the story on a bi-weekly basis, some of you may not be pleased with the rate, but I'd like you to know that the updates will continue regularly at that rate, without large gaps between updates, I've got 11 other chapters waiting to be posted, and they will be coming soon! On a final note, I'm still seeking a party interested in being a Beta, anyone game? Drop me a line. I can be reached directly at arfredrick via Yahoo.

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Chapter Two  
Midnight Rendezvous

_Love is the immortal flow of energy  
That nourishes, extends and preserves. Its goal is life.  
- Smiley Blanton_

_Save Tonight - Eagle Eye Cherry_

She had been dozing when his call came, falling peacefully into a dreamless sleep, and looking forward to the comfort of a full night of rest. When her intercom buzzed, she was on the brink of dreams, still willing to cross over the edge. But when his voice beckoned her, she freed herself from the chains of sleep, escaping the land of Nod to answer his call.

It was only after they had spoken that she had paused for a moment to reflect on what had just happened. Robin had called her, and asked her to meet him. This had never happened her, he had never called after hours. Given the events of the previous day, and they way she had acted so emotionally towards him, she found it uncanny that he would call upon her now. Especially considering how engrossed she had been with thoughts of him during her meditation earlier in the evening.

Contemplating these things, she got out of bed, and got dressed. Wandering the halls of the tower, she made her way quietly pondering the reason Robin chose to wake her at such a late hour. Through winding halls she made her way to him, through darkness, and rooms aglow with the faint luminescence of lunar light.

She finally found him precisely where he said he would be waiting for her. She beheld him from behind, most of his form hidden from her, there he was sitting on the couch in the main room of Titans Tower. This room was most definitely the heart of the building. Architecturally this room was the center most point of the building. It was located at the top of the main body of the building, arching out slightly with the separate arms that formed the T-shape of the structure.

This was also the room in which they spent most of their time together. The informal meeting place of the team. They each had their own favorite places. Robin enjoyed the gym. Cyborg enjoyed his workshop, tech lab, and garage. Beast Boy favored the basketball court and pool on the roof. Starfire enjoyed sunbathing on the roof, or surfing the internet from the media room. And her particular favorite were the gardens located directly above this room in the arboretum. But it was in this room that they spent their most time together as a group. Playing video games. Reading. Talking. Eating. Whatever. But now the room was dark, and Robin sat facing the windows, staring out into the night.

The first thing she noticed, as she used her powers to levitate over to the couch, was that he was wearing street clothes. He was dressed in blue jeans, a black tee shirt, and a leather jacket. On his face, he wore the mask to which she was accustomed, and his feet were clad in his usual biker boots. He looked over at her and smiled slightly.

She felt a tad awkward being caught in his gaze. The smile on his face was melancholy, but well-meaning and honest. He gestured, offering her a free seat, with the wave of his hand. Usually she would be offended by such an invitation, because it was not as if she needed his permission to sit. However, this time she felt as if it was more of a request than an invitation. He wanted her company. And she was willing to give it.

She sat next to him, in a half lotus position, hands curled casually in her lap and tugging at the hem of the cranberry sweater she had worn. She was also wearing dark silk sleeping pants, and thick black socks. The night had been cold; and she had dressed to stay warm, and her attire, however girly, was comfortable.

Raven looked at him, and their eyes locked briefly. She felt herself smile, and cursed herself mentally for letting her emotions slip. Robin smiled back at her, sharing the moment, and for some reason, the sight of this smile made her blush. She looked away, out into the night, and grasped for something to say. Why was she without words? Think! Be cool. Be calm.

"Stargazing? This late?" She teased.

"Thanks for coming. I know it's late, were you asleep?" He asked in a half whisper.

"Getting there. I was meditating." She answered with a slight fib. "What's wrong Robin?"

"Call me Richard."

"What?"

He smiled again. "Or Dick if you prefer."

"What's going on here Robin?" She was really puzzled. Raven had never seen him acting like this.

He ignored her question for a few moments, and just looked at her with a silent regard, as if trying to decide what to say. She could tell that he was trying to be casual, trying to act as if nothing was the matter, but she could see that he was troubled, it was etched across his face.

"You know, that is the third time you've smiled at me today."

"Sorry to disappoint you Bird Boy, but it is well past midnight, and hence a new day. So that makes it smile numero uno." She told him.

As if to further illustrate her point, she brought up her right hand, and held up a single digit. Merely seconds afterwards, she regretted these actions, because they were totally unlike her. However she felt a small sense of satisfaction when she was rewarded for her efforts by another small smile.

"You know Rae, you've been acting different lately. I know it has to do with Trigon." He paused for a moment to grapple with a heavy thought. "You seem happier. Like you're free."

It was to her dissatisfaction that he also noticed the small changes in her attitude, commenting on it only seconds after she herself had considered it within the depths of her thoughts. Though it wasn't has if she hadn't already given him enough evidence that these changes were happening. She had hugged him twice. Once with everyone present, and once in private. If that didn't make the changes apparent, she didn't know what else could.

"What do you think about it?" She asked him mildly.

"It's different."

Upon hearing him say that, she must have visibly grimaced, or given some other outward sign of disapproval, because the words came flowing from his mouth in a jumble, he was quickly trying to explain himself, possibly afraid he risked alienating her if he gave her the wrong impression of his feelings.

"Erm, sorry Rae. What I mean is that, this is a different side of you, and it'll take some getting used to, but I like this side better, than the one I've already come to know."

She sighed, feeling a little helpless. She was in unknown territory when it came to expressing her emotions. Raven felt comfortable experimenting with her emotions around Robin. But she didn't want it to become a big deal with the other Titans. They don't need to know that she was becoming girly, let them draw their own conclusions.

"Just do me a favor Robin?" She asked.

"Only if you promise to drop the superhero hype, and call me by my given name." He answered.

"Okay then - will you do me a favor Richard?" She asked again.

"Sure."

"Don't go gossiping to everyone else about the differences in me. I don't need their psychoanalysis." She told him.

"Hmm. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." As if to prove his loyalty to her, and the cause of keeping quiet, he raised his hand in mock salute, and grinned at her devilishly. "Seriously though, they're sure to notice eventually. I mean, you can't keep something like this hidden forever. A smile or two are sure to slip."

"So basically Dick, you're saying that you're dangerous company to keep, until I want them to know the truth?" She asked him this, intentionally using a special sarcastic tone when saying his name.

"I resent that. I'm not dangerous. I wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Remember the moths?" She asked

"That was different. They're Evil, with a capital E."

A silence fell between them. Raven sat watching him, finding herself unsure of what to say. It hadn't been awkward yet. But she was sure that he would mention what had happened between them on the rooftop eventually. She had to brace herself for that. Be prepared for what was coming. But regardless of how she had learned to expect the unexpected during her time as a Titan, she was not ready for the bomb that Robin was going to drop.

* * *

He was hesitant to tell her the things he needed to. Richard had spent the past few hours going over this conversation in his mind. Picking over it, and the answers he would give, and those he could not. Ultimately he had decided to give her as little information as possible. Mainly because he didn't want to worry her, or get her hopes up, but also because he didn't want to get the others involved.

If his plan worked, there would be six of them again, and that would be fine by him. Better to surprise them with the positive outcome, then to get their hopes up while undertaking a mission that proved to be fruitless. He had come to this decision with some degree of difficulty. What finally swayed him into this course of action was his past experiences with Batman.

Bruce Wayne had always be brutally honest with Dick. Telling his young protégé that it was a cold hard world, and he better learn to face the grim truth of it. And so he had spent many years facing the grim truth of things, while sometimes wishing not to.

So he had decided not to tell her everything… At least not right away. It wasn't that he didn't trust her to keep a secret. It was that he didn't want her to come with him. He needed to do this by himself. It was as much about finding Terra, as it was about finding himself.

He was stalling. He needed to tell her. To get on this it. Thinking he would react better if he told her eye to eye, he reached up and removed the mask from his face, so that no veil was between them. Dropping his hand back into his lap, with mask in tow, he finally spoke.

"I've been thinking about it since this morning at breakfast." He hesitated. "I need some time away from the team. There are some things I need to do, some things I need to take care of.

"But why? What things?" She asked.

"I'd rather not talk about it, I don't want to end up letting everyone down." He grunted. "Besides, I need to do this alone."

"Robin, you can't expect me to accept that alone." She told him.

"Call me Richard please."

"Whatever. You know what I mean. The others will be asking about you, and your explanation won't satisfy them, it won't even satisfy me."

Richard didn't want to argue with her. That was the furthest thing from his mind, especially considering the progress they had made during the past few days. He felt as if they could confide in each other. But perhaps his earlier decision about not telling her the truth was not entirely wise.

He looked into her eyes. They captivated him, the deep indigo irises, they were a thing of beauty, and Richard could see emotions held within them. He was surprised to see this side of her. That she was expressing herself so openly, so freely. She was changing, and he was happy that he got to witness it.

"Does this have something to do with Slade?" She asked abruptly.

"Not this time. He is the farthest thing from my mind."

That was not entirely true, he had dwelled on thoughts of Slade earlier in the evening. But that was not what compelled him now. And there was really no reason to worry her needlessly. Richard decided to compromise, and tell her about his need to find himself, while not spilling the beans about Terra.

"Raven? Do you trust me?" He asked her this, expecting that it would take her several moments to contemplate, and decide on an answer. But she gave him an instantaneous nod.

"Then please trust me when I tell you that I'm not going off on some crazy stunt." He said.

"Then what is this about?" She asked him.

"I'm not sure yet. But I feel lost as Robin." He stopped. "I'm not sure if I can be Robin anymore."

* * *

Raven was getting frustrated with him quickly. His cryptic answers were giving her no insight into what he was planning, and she sensed he was holding back some important information from her. The only other times he had done this, was when Slade was involved. He had promised her that Slade had nothing to do with this. And she was inclined to believe him. But there was definitely something else he was not telling her. After all they had been through together, as a team, as friends, she was disappointed that he still held things back from her.

"Why ask me here? Why not Cyborg? Beast Boy?….. Starfire?" She hesitated, letting the question fall from her lips…

"The others wouldn't understand this. They would try and stop me." Another smile. "You of all people should know about needing to find yourself, needing to find what is missing, don't you Raven?"

"I understand you perfectly Richard." She stopped calling him Robin on impulse, hoping it would help him relax a little. But truthfully she was the one feeling tense.

"Besides you don't really need to worry about me. I'm just going to take a little trip. Think of it as a vacation." He told her.

"I don't understand. Where will you go?" She asked while trying to bite back the frown that had almost crossed her lips.

"I'm going to Gotham City for starters. I need to pay a visit to some old friends. Hopefully, they can help me find the answers I need."

"Why won't you let us help you Richard? Let me help you?" She felt timid asking him so directly. "I still owe you so much. For not giving up on me. Not letting Trigon win. You saved me."

"We all defeated Trigon together. We saved each other. More aptly, you saved us Raven. We are a team, and I will always be there to defend you, and our friends. But I need to do this on my own."

"Alright." She relented.

He took hold of her hands. It was sudden, something that was completely unlike him, and she had not expected it at all. She felt her heartbeat quicken at the contact between them. His hands were gloveless, and she could feel the warmth of his touch.

He caressed her palm softly, as he interlaced his fingers with hers. For Raven, this was a completely new sensation. His touch, while light, was still rather intimate. She was not used to this sort of contact with him. But she found herself welcoming it, and the feelings that came with it.

"Don't worry Raven. Things will be fine. I wanted you to know my plans." He paused. "Out of everyone, I know that you understand me the best. And that you will understand that I need to do this. I'll come back, I promise that. The Titans are important to me…. You are important to me."

She was overwhelmed very suddenly by his heartfelt declaration. She gasped slightly, and closed her eyes, she felt her face grow hot again, and was unsure of what she was feeling. These sensations were so alien to her. She leaned forward, and toward him, resting her head on his shoulder.

She could feel his body tense against her, and was about to pull back, feeling as if she had made a dire mistake, and had crossed a line between them. But then she felt his body soften, and felt his hands grasp hers tighter, and so she stayed, resting her head on his shoulder.

* * *

After a few bare minutes with him, she drew back, and he could see the questions in her eyes, the ones that she didn't dare to ask. Her jaw was clenched, leaving him to wonder what words she had left unspoken, but it was a question better left for another time.

"Do you promise to be safe?" She asked him this hesitantly. Almost as if she was afraid of his answer.

"I will. No worries."

He smiled at her, while standing slowly, and regretfully letting go of her hands. As the warmth of her touch already began to fade from his palms, he turned away from her, to face the bay window once more. Walking forward, he gazed out into the night. Even in the darkness he could see the possibilities that the world held from him, and he was eager to discover what some of them were.

There were still storm clouds hanging in the night sky, and for the second time in less than an hour, they once again eclipsed the moon, hiding its light from the world. But the stars shone brightly in the heavens, and they would light his path.

He turned away from the window, to say goodbye to her one last time. But she had already gone. It was just as well. He didn't really like goodbyes.


	4. Chapter 3: Tibet

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a 50 inch Sony plasma television."

**Foreword & Notes  
**Greetings Everyone. I've braved Hell, and my ISP to bring you my third chapter on time. There were so many connection issues with my ISP today, I felt as if the world had gone insane. You'd think for the price I pay for Cable internet access, they be more reliable, huh? Sheesh! Anyhow, I'm sure most of you are thinking if I've become a little insane myself, considering the content of this current chapter. But, I assure you that it is as believable as Batman, Robin, and the rest. Hmm. To date, I've gotten over a thousand hits for my story, but only seven reviews? Hmm. One of my reviewers even said that he was surprised at my lack of reviews. So tell me, what do you all think?

**The Future**  
More in Tibet; The Great Burger Conspiracy; A villain named Kid Ray? Huh?

* * *

Chapter Three

Tibet

_It's kind of fun to do the impossible.  
- Walt Disney_

_Nobody Knows It But Me - Babyface _

She had left him without saying goodbye. Quietly disappearing into the shadows that she was so greatly accustomed to. She retreated into the depths of her room, and sat in the gloom, without a candle to guide her thoughts. And it was in this blackness that she thought of him, and all that had transpired between them only minutes before.

The flood of emotions was new and unheard of for her, and she was having trouble adjusting to the idea that he could spark such feelings in her. It was true, that they had gotten closer through their previous ordeals together. But this was something different.

She was sitting on her bed, blankets heaped around her in uneven piles, the sheets a rumpled mess. She had not slept this night, but her bed was still disorderly from her slumber the previous evening. This room provided her warmth, and comfort, and sanctuary. But now, being alone in it once more, she could only think of the world outside. And no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts still focused on him. Richard Grayson. Robin.

She thought of the intimacy they had shared only moments prior, and was shocked by the boldness that had driven her actions. Holding hands? Resting her head on his shoulder? What the Hell? It was totally unlike her. A forbidden expression of feeling. Taboo. A sin. She felt as guilty as an obese woman who had eagerly devoured an entire pint of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia, only after reading a trashy romance novel, and feeling profoundly moved by the lush within its pages.

Still, as forbidden as these feelings were, she thought of him. Closing her eyes, and cutting off her visual perception of the rest of the world, she focused her thoughts on him. She wanted to watch him go, to be there with him as he departed. She would not continue the journey with him outside of the tower, but she would watch him leave. She planned to do this secretly, giving him no idea that she was watching. So she focused her thoughts on him, and let her mantra flow…

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos." She spoke softly. "Jadari, Dalios, Metrion."

These ancient words offered her a second sight, and allowed her to secretly observe the world around her, while sitting undisturbed atop her bed. She repeated this six word mantra, and focused on the target that she sought to view. Her mind searched for him throughout the tower, and found him quickly.

He was in the garage, his civilian motorcycle purring with life, primed and ready to devour the roads of the night. He was wearing a dark motorcycle helmet, embossed on it in custom crimson paints, was the Robin emblem that he favored as his calling card. She was disappointed that he was wearing the helmet. Deep down, she admitted that she had sought him out, using her astral sight, because she wanted to see his face one more time, get a glimpse of his cobalt eyes, and his spiky mane of hair.

Ugh… Get a grip Raven. This is not like you. What freakish Twilight Zone have you entered? She watched him from above, her mind disembodied and floating, a ghostly phantom hidden from sight by the florescent lights that cast illumination into the depths of garage. She watched him as he rummaged through the pockets of his leather bomber jacket, fumbling to take hold of something.

He produced his communicator from his pocket, and inputted commands into the device, as he did so, the garage door has already begun to rise. The headlight of his ebony motorcycle shone out into the dimness of the night, pushing away the murkiness that lurked around the tower. She watched him, he placed his communicator on the cold concrete.

Raven watched as he accelerated into the dusk, and away from her sight. She knew she could follow him quite easily, only needing the power of a stray thought, but is hesitant to watch him any longer. He needed time to himself, and as his friend, she knew she must respect his wishes. However she still found herself mulling over the events of the past hour. She needed clarity. She needed insight.

Finally coming to a decision, Raven thought of her room, of her body sitting motionlessly atop her bed, and traveled back there in the space of a second. She released her bonds to the astral plane and returned to her body. She became aware slowly, and for a moment she was disorientated as sensations begin to flood her mind. She opened her eyes, and only discovered shadows, and errant moonlight that had again found asylum from the clouds, now able to shine freely through her window once more.

Raven Roth needed someone to talk to. To help her interpret the feelings and thoughts that had plagued her this evening. Instinct guided her to the one logical choice. To the person that had been there for her, since her arrival on this planet. She had not visited him in almost three years, and felt a pang of guilt at the thought, especially considering that she was only contemplating visiting him, because she needed advice.

Nevertheless, she knew that he would welcome her warmly, with open arms. That he would find time to speak with her, and offer his wisdom and counsel. The trip would be difficult, but she was eager to undertake it, no matter how fatigued she may feel afterwards.

She closed her eyes again, and for a third time this evening, she focused her mind, and prepared to tap the powers with which she was gifted, using her spiritual mantra to control them. She was going to speak the mantra for instantaneous travel. It was beyond the normal modes she employed to cross vast distances. She would cross the gulf in a matter of seconds.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos."

As the words fell from her tongue, she strived to stay focused, and was gratified when she felt reality begin to slip away. Her body was becoming lighter, striving to break free of the bonds imposed by the mortal world. Gravity was nothing to her, it could not hold her captive any longer, she felt herself beginning to rise from her bed.

"Veganitos, Taelios, Zinthos."

She felt herself beginning to slip out of phase with the rest of the world. Out of sync with nature, but now more in tune with the universe, it allowed her more freedom than any normal being could ever experience. In this state of being, power was not measured by muscle, or flesh, or bone. Not by vast armies, explosive weapons, or biological agents. In this realm, the real power was held within the mind. In her mind burned the power of a thousand suns, energy absolute, only waiting for a thought to guide it.

"Razath, Mendrath, Azarath."

Her body began to shimmer with a spiritual light, a glow that pulsated, and was in tune with her heartbeat. The pulsing radiance seemed to grow brighter, and filled every corner of the room with infinite ivory luminescence.

This phenomenon was silent, though a magnificent spectacle when viewed from afar. The violet-haired girl floated in mid-air, her legs still crossed and in a sitting position. Her image was ghostly, more than pale, it was as if she wasn't fully there. The casual observer would notice her presence fading from view, her face and body being enveloped in the white light, and disappearing. The girl continued to fade into nothingness, and once finally gone, only the eerie ivory light remained. Soon this too began to fade, at first losing its pulse, then casting  
away its brilliance, and finally dimming into a foggy grey mist. The mist lingered in the room for a time, only to ultimately dissolve into the void from which it came.

* * *

Though only slightly past midnight in California, the land where Titans dwelled, it was still early evening on the rooftop of the world. Her journey was a short one, traveling past Himalayan peaks, giving a wide berth to the mountain known as Everest, and arriving at her destination. She materialized at the gates of a vast Buddhist monastery, taking a deep breath of frigid air, and trying to wait for the dizziness to pass.

She had traveled thousands of miles in mere seconds, making a journey that would take most people several days. But now, as she stood at the ancient gates of this mandala-shaped building, she was hesitant to go any further. It was foolish to be nervous, she would be in the company of friends, and they would welcome her graciously. However, when she had last departed this lamasery it had not been in good spirits, and she had said a thing or two that she regretted.

She turned her back on the wooden gates, and leaned against them, thankful for the support they were willing to provide. She scanned the horizon that stretched out before her, and beheld a never-ending field of snow. The monastery clung to the edge of a barren mountainside, a beacon of civilization in an otherwise desolate void of snow and ice.

Glacial winds howled around her in fierce torrents. The wind assaulted the monastery walls with such force that it seemed to be a living organism, perhaps trying to gain entry to the interior of the building, and extinguish all warmth it held. The tempest of wind also held her within its chilling grasp, stealing from her every ounce of body heat that remained inside her.

She felt the icy touch of death caress her face, and knew she would succumb to hypothermia if she did not find shelter, or warmer clothing soon. It was her own moronic actions that lead her to this point. She had left abruptly, without bothering to change into something more appropriate for the climate. She still wore her sleeping attire, and the arctic wind offered her no relief. Nor did the silk pants she wore offer protection.

She pushed away from the aged timber gates that supported her, and caught a glimpse of the sun as she did so. Nearby mountain peaks, valleys of ice, and jagged rock formations were all dappled with fiery light, and while beautiful, the sunlight would do nothing to warm her.

Turning her back to the landscape that stretched out before her, she stood facing the large gates once more. The doors were made from the wood of a blessed oak tree, and stood strong against the elements. Usually barriers such as these did not hinder her movement, but she was not able to enter this place uninvited.

Long ago, the monks of this monastery had used prayer, and arcane blessings to seal the temple against evil entities, and the magical forces of the world. Because of this, Raven's powers were rendered useless. She couldn't use them to gain entry to the monastery, or while inside of it. This had always stuck Raven as odd, because she did not think of her powers as magical, nor were they of this world, so why would they be useless here? She had never been given the answer to this question.

Her body was shivering severely as she moved to the left, seeking a recessed area in the wall, that hid a thick rope. Raven finally found the recessed area, using her hands to scoop out some snow that had built up around the rope. Finally grasping it with both hands, she pulled it vigorously and was awarded with the reverberating echo of bells from somewhere within the building.

The doorbell, while somewhat primitive, was effective, and they were now aware of her presence. Surely they would greet her soon. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she hugged herself and waited. The bells still echoed from within in the building, and she began to hear the soft repetition of footsteps moving towards her.

It wouldn't be long now. She was eager to see them again, all of them, but especially him. The man who was more like a father to her than anyone else. But now, as she heart footsteps approach, she began to feel strange. The cold lost it effect on her, and she was no longer able to feel its piercing bite. She felt numb against it, and this worried her.

The footsteps sounded closer as darkness began to creep in, from the edge of her vision, Raven's heartbeat grew frantic as she knew what was coming. She cried out weakly, trying to beckon the footsteps to hurry, but was unable to issue more than a squeaking sound akin to that of a mouse. She cursed herself silently as the darkness encroached, further clouding her vision. Under more normal circumstances, she would employ a psychic barrier around her body, to protect herself from the elements. But traveling such a vast distance had left her energy drained, which very well might be her undoing.

She felt dizzy, and tried to turn, to lean against the gates once more, in hopes that they would better support her, but even trying to turn expended more energy than she had, and only made her dizziness worse. As a result of this, she lost her balance, and fell to her knees still facing the gates. The darkness that began only as a threat finally overwhelmed her, and she lost consciousness.

Though she had passed out, Raven remained positioned on her knees for several seconds, before gravity

won pulling her down, her body fell to the left, landing in a soft patch of snow, a peaceful image, despite the chaos of the storm around her.


	5. Chapter 4: Confessions

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a 1970 Hemi 'Cuda Convertible."

**Foreword & Notes  
**Hello Again! Greetings and Salutations! Anyhow, here I am again with another chapter of Paradox. This is a continuation of the last chapter, in which Raven went to Tibet. I have the feeling that the previous chapter left some of my readers scratching their heads and saying "Huh?". It raised more questions than answers it seems, however this chapter should clear some of that up. On another note, this post comes a few days early. I've decided to start posting new chapters on a bi-weekly rate, every Monday. The reason for this? The submission rate on Sunday is very high, and it does not give this story enough time in the spotlight. After all, how many of us go two or three pages back looking for fresh stories? Enough said.

**The Future**  
Pink Bunny Slippers, Starfire freaks, and um... A Mystery Guest? It's Not Batman, but the appearance of this character might still be a shock.

* * *

Chapter Four  
Confessions

_The superfluous, a very necessary thing.  
- François Marie Arouet de Voltaire_

_My Last Breath - Evanescense_

Raven came awake with a start, remembering only the feral touch of icy forbidding snow. Now she lay on her back, warm and wrapped in several layers of blankets. The blankets were of a rather rough texture, that while simple, was still somehow pleasing to the skin. This sensation was familiar, and relaxing to her. It invoked thoughts of times past, and memories from when she had first arrived here, on Earth, and at this simple Tibetan monastery.

She drifted through memories as easily as one would turn the pages of a book. After coming to Earth from Azarath, she had sought sanctuary with the same type of people she had grown with. After some searching, she had learned of this particular monastery from a television broadcast, that she had viewed as her soul self, while hiding in the rafters of an electronics discount store.

She had traveled there several days later, after working up the nerve to do so. While the people of Earth were not that much different from the people of Azarath, she had found it hard to cope with the onslaught of emotions that she was bombarded with while in cities, or even in small towns. It was her hope that during her isolation in Tibet, she could learn better methods to block out the emotions that were broadcast at her, as well as learn more about the cultures and customs of the Earth, and its people.

She had come during the evening. She brought with her only a small backpack which was filled with clothes, books, and a meager amount of dry provisions. She had traveled to them then, much in the same way she had traveled to them this day, through teleportation. However the first time she had ventured to this placed, she materialized almost a mile away, to reduce the risk of being seen, and perhaps feared.

She had met them abruptly, one by one they came, and only moments after her presence was known. They met her with kindness, and a genuine sense of happiness that she had not experienced before. They offered her food, and lodging without hesitation. And it was that night, over a home grown dinner, that she had met Tenzing Yeshe.

Raven opened her eyes abruptly, and was greeted by the sight of a coffered ceiling. This was the library ceiling and it was very special to her. The ceiling featured crisscrossing support beams that gave the ceiling a checkerboard look, inside each of the squares was a mandala-shaped tile mosaic pattern depicting different aspects of the sky. The moon and the stars, the sun and the clouds. There were fifty of these mosaic pieces in all, each one Raven had crafted herself as a gift for the monks, a square was dedicated to each of them. It was a project she started as a way to offer her thanks to them, for her hospitality. And, once it was completed, she had left the monastery as quietly as she had come.

She had not intended to leave as hastily as she had done, but had done so to avoid further confrontation was Tenzing, the leader of the small and humble monastery she had come to call home. Tenzing Yeshe, or Tennie as he was sometimes called by the monks behind his back, was somewhat of an enigma to Raven. He seemed to be as emotionally isolated as a man on a mountain, totally in control of his emotions, and thoughtful enough to express his opinions and ideas with others, readily understanding points of view that were different than his own.

However he was also a kind man, one that Raven felt comfortable with. She had shared her secrets with him after being in the monastery for only a year. He had not treated her any differently afterward, had not looked down upon her, or shunned her in any sense of the word. He only offered his acceptance and his guidance, in an effort to try and help her. At first she took his help willingly, than with an increased sense of chagrin. He began to push her harder during their meditations, trying to get her to find a balance with the darkness in her heart, and then to overcome it.

In retrospect Raven supposed that Tenzing was leading her on the correct path, although she had been too blind and fearful to see it at that time. So she had cursed at him and fled after a rather heated argument. And now, as she turned on her side, and started to sit up, he was there, sitting on a large meditation pillow with his back to her, in front of the fireplace.

She was surprised to see him sitting there silently, and serenely. Raven took a moment to compose herself, sitting quietly, and taking in her surroundings. The library hadn't changed much since the last time she had been here. The walls were still lined with books, there were still comfortable chairs and pillows strewn about, to allow and encourage reading. She realized that she had been resting on a jumu, a day bed that was basically the Tibetan equivalent of a Japanese futon.

To her left, there was a small table, which seemed to be lined with food. All traditional Tibetan fare, and while her stomach growled with hunger, she made no move for it. It was not customary to take meals in the library, the monks dined communally, so it surprised her to see the food her. She knew however that it must be for her benefit.

Though it may not have had been apparent to her, the rhetorical grow her stomach had made, upon seeing the food, was actually a physical one, and alerted Tenzing to her presence in the land of the lucid.

"Greetings Raven," Tenzing said.

For the moment, she was silent, and unsure of how to answer him, or where to start. This was the man, who was more like a father to her than anyone else, and first and foremost, she wanted to let it be known that she was sorry for the way she had disrespected him.

"Once again we've found you on our doorstep, once again we've happily taken you in," Tenzing paused. "But why has it taken you so long to visit us, Little Bird?"

Raven sensed that the question was by no means rhetorical, and that Tenzing was waiting for her answer. But he said nothing, perhaps giving her a moment to gather her thoughts. He was sitting on his knees, and turned abruptly to face her, his form silhouetted by the fire. Though the room was lighted by both candle, and firelight, it seemed as if his smile also brightened it, and she was pleased to see this.

"We did not part on good terms," She told him, "I was hesitant to return after our disagreement. I said hurtful things to you, that you didn't deserve, and never even bothered to apologize."

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, taking time to breathe deeply, and study her.

"Three winters have pasted since then, alone with three summers. The snow from those winters has since melted, and become water under the bridge. We shouldn't think of it too heavily, at least not on an empty stomach. Would you care to join me for dinner?"

* * *

With his dinner invitation, Tenzing proved that it was not music that soothed the savage beast, but food. At least, this is what Raven thought. They sat face -to-face, on meditation pillows, with only the table separating them, and each ate with a heartiness that they both thought to be unsurpassed.

The meal was a veritable banquet of Raven's old favorite dishes. They drank Bod-jha, a soupy black tea that she had come to love. And ate a stew consisting of onion, ginger, carrot, potatoes, and momo dumplings which were filled with shredded meat and herbs. In Raven's opinion, it was much better than the won-ton soup she was accustomed to back in Jump City. They ate the soup along with tsampa, a doughy ball of grain and barley, that is eaten while still wet, a stable food of the region.

Finally, sitting beside each other on the jumu, while wrapped in blankets like elderly cohorts, they spoke of the past, of Raven's reasons for leaving, and even of some of her exploits with the Titans. Tenzing himself had brought up the latter subject, which had surprised Raven, she was unaware that he had knowledge of her heroic actions. When she asked how he had come by that information, he had simply laughed, saying that he had ears in other parts of the world. And finally, after all of that, nearly two hours of conversation, they sat silently. Raven wanted to discuss the issue that had been plaguing her mind, her apparent feelings toward Robin. However, she was unsure of how to approach the subject.

"You've changed since our last time together Raven, I should no longer call you Little Bird, because you've grown much," Tenzing stated.

"Don't call me Big Bird either," Raven said this, and Tenzing cracked a smile, which was followed by a hearty chuckle.

"You see? Even cracking jokes now, you are not the girl I once knew. You have changed, the only thing that remains as it once was, is your attire, and the symbol of your chakra."

"I've been through a lot since I left the monastery, I guess you could say that I was able to rid myself of some demons, " she told him.

"I see. You are also more in touch with your emotions now, I do not sense this, but know it to be true, because it is evident in your demeanor," Tenzing said.

There was no fooling this old monk. He saw right through her, he always had, even in her darker moods.

"That is part of the reason I came to see you Tenzing," Raven told him. "I've been having trouble with my emotions, and am feeling something that I've never felt before, towards a person that is totally unexpected."

Raven made her confessions to the monk my firelight, wondering the whole time what he was thinking, and whether or not the whole situation sounded as crazy to him, as it felt to her…. Felt…. Ugh… It made her gag.. Why did she have to feel?

At the end of her rant, Tenzing greeted her with laughter. And Raven felt her cheeks burning hot with a blush, that she hoped Tenzing would attribute to the fire, the fact that she was wearing a sweater, and the heaps of blankets piled around her. If Tenzing noticed her blushing, he did not make light of it, he spent his time sitting in contemplation.

"I'm an old man Raven, and my mind isn't as sharp as it used to be. My back aches on days when there is a heavy snow, and my sinuses aren't what they used to be," as Tenzing told her this, Raven raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"My point is, I'm not as adept as I used to be, especially with the matters that you are now facing," he told her.

"What should I do then?" Raven asked.

"Don't think about it too much, don't analyze it, and be open-minded about it. Every rose blooms over time," Tenzing stated.

"Mystical as usual," Raven said.

With that, the subject was closed, and they discussed other things, the internet, new books that have arrived at the monastery. Even the railway that was being built, from mainland China, into Tibet. Raven felt happy to be in Tenzing's presence again, and delighted to be having an adult conversation, it certainly was a change of pace for her. It was with these thoughts in mind, that she dozed off into an unexpected sleep..


	6. Chapter 5: A Confusing Departure

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a Jacuzzi."

**Foreword & Notes  
**Hmm. This is one of the chapters that I am most proud of in regards to this story. It is also one of the chapters that I've taken the most liberties with. As you read on you will notice that I altered Starfire's origin story to be more of a hybrid between the comics and the cartoon. I hope you all find it to be quite intriguing, and interesting. I did not take too many liberties with things, just revamped them a little bit. Anyhow, Read and Review. Still needing a Beta!

**The Future**  
The Great Burger Conspiracy... Booster Gold.. Richard gets the hots for a waitress?

* * *

Chapter five  
Confusing Departure

_Every tomorrow has two handles. We can take hold of it  
With the handle of anxiety or the handle of faith.  
- Henry Ward Beecher_

_Easier to Run - Linkin Park_

His footsteps echoed ominously as he entered the garage of the tower. The lights blinked to life without request, as he stepped into the massive vehicle bay. The wonders of motion detectors. He smirked slightly, and walked past Cyborg's work bench, and the T-Car.

He spotted his R-Cycle, and felt a pang of regret that he would not be taking it with him. He was going to leave the identity of Robin behind for this journey. The R-Cycle would only raise questions that he might not be prepared to answer. And he did not need those complications. Walking past his cycle, and still smirking, he felt hopeful for the road that lay ahead of him.

The garage was divided into two sections. One housed the vehicles and accessories they used while on missions, and on assignments. The other section housed the civilian vehicles they owned. There was no physical barrier between the two sections. But the floor of the garage was painted with a uniform yellow line to separate the two. Probably another one of Cyborg's ideas.

They had two civilian cars, a dark green Scion TC, and a red Toyota Matrix. But Richard was interested in neither of these. He had another vehicle in mind, sitting behind the Matrix, was he other baby. A Kawasaki Ninja ZX12-R Motorcycle. Painted a simple black, its presence was still striking. It rivaled in performance with his R-Cycle, and the handling was awesome. He would make good time riding the Ninja, and he hoped to be well on his way to Gotham before sunrise.

Walking up to the machine, he grabbed his helmet, and backpack from the seat. He had already been down here before his talk with Raven, and had everything he needed to go. He would be traveling light, but he had the cash to get anything he needed along the way. If he insisted on taking more, it would only slow him down anyways.

Slinging the pack over his shoulder, he resigned himself to continuing this journey. Pulling his helmet down snug over his head, he used his heel to flip up the kickstand, while at the same time hopping onto the bike. Putting the key into the ignition, he started the cycle. The engine purred to life flawlessly, and sat idling and ready to race. Sometimes Robin missed the traditional kick-start mechanism of some of the older bikes he had ridden. Somehow, kick-starting a motorcycle seemed more satisfying to him. The thoughts occupied his mind with.

Shaking his head to himself, he switched on the bike's headlight, and accelerated slowly over to the garage door. He stood. The cycle still between his legs, he shifted his weight to hold it steady. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he fumbled with his communicator and deactivated the Tower's security systems briefly. Pushing a button on the communicator, he activated the garage door.

The bay door rose swiftly, using a modified hydraulic system that Cyborg had created. Victor had to tinker with everything! Pulling his communicator out of his pocket, he used it to input commands into the Tower's computer system wirelessly. He set the security systems to reactivate automatically within 60 seconds. Entering his confirmation code, he then deactivated the communicator, and bent over to put it on the concrete floor.

That being done, he righted himself on the bike, and prepared to ride. Accelerating out into the night, he rode swiftly. Rubber meeting asphalt, as he put distance between his home, and moved closer to his future. And hopefully redemption.

* * *

Koriand'r woke slowly, as she always did, letting her senses come alive one by one. She could feel the heat of the morning sunlight shining down on her, could smell the ocean air breezing in from her window, could hear the cries of seagulls roosting in the rocky areas around the tower. 

At that point, she decided that trying to continue sleeping would be a useless effort. Her senses had betrayed her with the promise of a new day, and she was ready to rise and greet it. Stretching her arms and legs outward, a small yawn escaped her, and she felt herself begin to blush slightly. Yawning was not something that took place on her home planet of Tamaran. It was a mannerism that she had picked up during her time on Earth. And even though she felt like it was a harmless gesture, she knew that the elders of her planet would frown upon her, for losing her cultural identity during her time on the planet.

But she had accepted these changes within herself with little hesitation. Her time on this world had become an important part of her, it had enriched her life to an extent that she was helpless to express. The changes that had taken place within her had been rather subtle and came gradually over the course of time. If she were to try and trace things back to the beginning, the time when this evolution had first started to take place, she would have to revisit her very first day on this planet.

She had come to Earth purely as a matter of chance. She had been captured by a reptilian race known as the Gordanians, and was en route to her fate, a life of imprisonment as Citadelian slave. The Citadel were a horrible race that had subjected millions of beings from countless worlds to slavery, and the prospect of joining the teeming masses had not appealed to Koriand'r.

She had taken a chance fighting back against her captors and narrowly averting death, while managing to steal small shuttle. The shuttle had been unarmed, but she could taste her freedom, and sought to reclaim it. She had enlisted the aide of the shuttle's onboard navigational computer, and piloted her craft to a nearby solar system.

Using the alien Hyper Drive, her journey had been quick, though dangerous nonetheless. She had to evade weapons fire the entire time, and her shielding had been badly damaged in the process. She recalled her fear during that time. She had spent several days hiding within the gravity well of the seventh planet from the sun. The planet had a faint dark matter particle ring, which hid her craft from sensors for a time.

But eventually she had been discovered and was forced to run again. She had maneuvered her shuttle and slingshot around the planet's fourth moon, while she had scanned for a planet with hospitable life. The third planet from the sun would support her, she had found it easily enough, however she had faced many perils passing through an asteroid belt to get there.

She had hoped they would not pursue her. But they were relentless, and continued to seek her, damaging her craft further as she fled, which had forced her to make a crash landing on the planet that would become known to her as Earth.

* * *

Unbeknownst to her at the time was that her crash landing had caught the attention of a band of heroes. When they had first discovered her, the Gordanian battle cruiser had hung low in the sky, and she had assumed that the heroes were going to capture her, and return her to the aliens. However she had confused their intentions and let the warrior within her take over too quickly. She had battled the heroes fearlessly, with a ruthless demeanor that only relented when she noticed that they aided her in escaping from the Gordanian hordes that hunted her. 

There had been one man that had caught her attention. His masked eyes had shown the true courage of a warrior's spirit, those eyes had imbued within her a sense of trust. It was then that she had sought his lips meaning for them to reveal the secrets of his language. When their lips had touched, she was able to retrieve the formula for his dialect from his mind, but something else had touched her then as well, something which still dwelled within her.

She dismissed it then, and explained her plight to the heroes. They were quick to aide her; they battled with the might of Titans, defeating the Gordanian's swiftly, and restoring order to the fair city the heroes inhabited. Even then they had begun to forge the bonds of their friendship, a friendship that had grown from that day forward, evolving much like Starfire had during her time on Earth.

To this very day, she recalled these memories with relish, and would often visit them within the depths of her mind. And whenever she thought of those days long ago, it was not the joy of regaining her freedom that made her heart still quicken, it was the memory of the kiss she had shared with Robin.

Back then she had kissed him while not knowing what personal significance it had held for humans, so it had left her with a jaded feeling of irony, that the kiss would still be fundamental to who she was, so many years later.

Though it had been brief, when their lips had met, she had gotten her first real taste of passion. It had burned within her with such intensity that she was taken aback by it, only to be left with a ravishing feeling of joy. Robin had fought her at first, but then the walls between them had melted, and they had both started to enjoy the kiss. It was only when Koriand'r felt herself becoming lost within the warmth of it, that she pulled away.

Her lips began to tingle, reminiscent of the past and also the phantom kiss. She opened her eyes, letting sunlight invade her sight, and brought a hand to her lips. Softly placing her fingers upon them, the tingling sensation started to fade, in its place remained the realization that the kiss she and Robin had shared was responsible for her changes over the years. It was what had started them. It was the catalyst from which the yawns had stemmed from.

She blushed slightly at the thought of this, and decided that she would dwell on these thoughts no longer. It was true that Richard, the man she would always fondly call Robin, was important to her. That importance ran deeper than friendship, but after all of this time she had yet to define their relationship. She had always thought that she was not ready for such a big step.

But today she was ready for a smaller step, and decided that it might be a good chance to ask Robin on a date. Even though it was the custom of the world for the man to ask the woman, Koriand'r would not feel out of place asking Robin. She would do it this afternoon, since it was possible that they could partake in a movie this evening.

She decided she would shower, which was always the best way to start the day, and then perhaps go for a light breakfast. Puffs of Cocoa? No. She had eaten those yesterday. Maybe some strawberry yogurt, with granola and mustard? Her stomach growled with hunger, and she found the thought of a meal very appealing. However she was still determined to shower first, rather than go to the kitchen smelling like one of the gaseous creatures from one of the swamp moons orbiting Tamaran.

Throwing back her sheets and comforter, she sat up and smiled meekly, she then rose from her bed, and let her feet meet the floor for a moment. A small chill traveled up her spine, and her teeth chattered. The cold tile floor with the culprit, and cause of her chill. However, unlike humans, she found the feeling pleasing. Part of the joy of life was experiencing new things, and she had not experienced chilly tile until coming to Earth.

Another thing she had not experienced until coming to Earth, were bunny slippers. Garfield, the green changeling also known as Beast Boy had given her the slippers as a gift to mark the anniversary of her first year living on Earth. They were cute, and fluffy, and PINK! Oh so adorable, with their floppy little ears, she had fallen in love with them instantly.

Bending over, she spied the pair of slippers hiding under her bed. The slippers hid among a nest of dust bunnies, which were not nearly as cute or endearing as the slippers themselves. Grabbing the slippers with another smile, she stood up, and took turns lifting each of her feet and putting them on. The feeling of them was quite wonderfully joyous. Upon wearing them, she had found her joy, and had thus found the power of flight. To her, it was a simple lesson that even the small things in life could be marvelous.

Her feet lifted off of the ground a few inches, and she floated over to her closet, pulling back the sliding door, she removed her clothes for the day, and the towel with which she would dry herself. She turned, and started floating toward the bathroom, and began to hum a peaceful lullaby from her childhood, when her tranquility was interrupted by a loud banging at her door.

"Starfire! Starfire! Are you there? Are you awake? Yo STARFIRE!" The bellowing voice came from a visitor at her door. Slightly irritated, she floated toward her bedroom door, intending to answer, and determine why the caller thought it polite to interrupt her peace at such an early hour.

"Yes? Please? Who is it?" She inquired softly, still not fully awake.

"It's me Vict… Cyborg…. Open up Starfire. We've got to talk. Something's happened." His voice was exasperated, and thick with tension.

"Friend Cyborg? What is the problem? Is it serious?" She asked. "I am still wearing my pajamas, and the slippers which are also bunnies. I am not ready to face you."

"Kori… Normally I'd understand. But this is serious." He paused, she could hear his heavy breathing from the opposite side of the door. "Robin is gone. He left. I found his communicator in the garage, it was deactivated."

"What?" She asked the question in an even tone, as a feeling of worry passed over her mind. Her feet fell to the tile. She dropped her towel encased garments onto the floor, while reaching for the door console, and pushing the button to open her door.

Starfire was greeted by the grim face of Cyborg, who also looked genuinely worried, but gave a weak smile, in a vain attempt of reassurance. Normally Victor was a positive person, always looking to the brighter side of life, a diehard optimistic. She suspected that something must've deeply rattled him.

"Tell me! What has happened?" Her tone was soft, but demanding as well.

"Robin is gone. He took his Ninja and left. His communicator was deactivated. I found it in the civilian bay of the garage." Cyborg stopped speaking for a moment, and inhaled. " I tried the secondary tracking device which we installed in all of the vehicles as a safety measure. That one was deactivated as well. He disappeared in the night, and doesn't want us to fight him."

"The others? Do they know?" She asked.

"No."

"Come! We must tell them. Hurry!"

She spoke in a concerned tone, but was hardly as frantic as Victor thought she would be. She brushed past him, and ran into the corridor. Well, maybe she was more worried than she let on. She had ran for the others leaving her door wide open, her clothing on the floor, and the modesty she felt regarding her pajamas behind.


	7. Chapter 6: The Stackhouse

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick  
**Archive:** With Permission Only**  
Chapter Rating:** PG  
**Chapter Spoilers:** None  
**Disclaimer:**"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a Rolex."  
**Foreword & Notes:**  
Here I am again folks, a day late and a few dollars short. I hope that this chapter finds all of you well, and in good spirits. In comparison to my other chapters, this one is a tad shorter, however you should rest assured that there is plenty more in the works. On A side note, things start heating up for Mr. Grayson after this chapter, in more ways than one. Watch for it.  
**The Future:**  
Rain, rain….and….uh….more rain?

* * *

Chapter Six  
The Stackhouse

_A man begins cutting his wisdom teeth  
The first time he bites off more than he  
Can chew. - Herb Caen_

_Tell Me Why - Will Smith_

Getting off of the interstate highway just as dusk gave way to a new dawn, Richard Grayson pulled into a nondescript motel that had a vacancy. After facing Raven the past midnight, he had become weary, and was in need of rest. Steering his motorcycle gently into a parking place, he finally came to a stop. It was a little after ten o' clock , and he had been riding for nearly nine hours. Stopping once to refuel the bike along the way, he now needed time to refuel his body with sleep, and something to eat.

The Royal Arms Motel was shabby and somewhat rundown. After taking the time to check in with the desk clerk and secure a room, he was directed to the adjacent dining facility called the Stackhouse. Entering the diner, he was struck by the retro fifties feel of the place. The small diner was dressed up in hues of pink, and layers of Formica. Elvis adorned the walls of this breakfast kingdom.

In the far corner of the room, flanked on both sides by booths, was a jukebox. Another piece of nostalgia to recreate a fifties feel. The Jukebox was a replica of an old style Wurlitzer, it featured a stained oak finish, and blue neon accent lighting running the length of the machine. It was truly a work of art in its own right. Right now Richard could hear James Brown crooning the lyrics to "I Feel Good."

The Stackhouse was known for the pancakes it served and the bountiful amount of breakfast fare it provided. The diner played host to travelers as well as truckers, which was evident from the semi-trucks in the parking lot, and the bearded drivers occupying the comfy booths of the diner. Richard walked over to the counter, and sat down on an empty barstool. Thankful for the stationary seat, he picked up the menu which is already on the counter waiting for the next customer.

Breathing in the rich aroma of brewing coffee he read over the menu, and decided on a simple breakfast. The waitress, who had previously been occupied in the kitchen, emerged from the depths of the culinary operating room with a fresh pot of coffee. He looked up at her, and was struck by her simple and raw beauty.

It was obvious to him that the daily operation of this diner, and also the motel, was a family affair. The promise of the American Dream had been fulfilled for these people, and he was glad to see that their business was thriving, even if the building itself was in overall need of renovation. The waitress was Hindu, as was the desk clerk of the motel, and it was likely to assume that the chef in the kitchen was as well.

Richard was not one to often be taken with a woman the first time he laid eyes on her. However, there was something about her that was magnetic. Her presence in the room drew his gaze, and he felt a weird sense of déjà vu upon seeing her. Her eyes were deep and soft, a light shade of chocolate. Her skin had the consistency of caramel, her lips a light pinkish brown. Her ebony hair flowed behind her freely as she walked, and it trailed past her shoulders in a wave of ringlet curls.

Their eyes met briefly, and she smiled at him while still in mid-stride. Making her way over to one of the dining booths, she offered to refill another patron's coffee, and quickly excused herself after the man issued a grunt of thanks for her service. Stopping at two more tables, and refilling five more cups in the process, her carafe emptied. She looked in the general direction of the kitchen, as if trying to decide if she should run for another pot, however fate is against her in this endeavor.

Following the direction of her gaze, Richard noticed that she had seen customers getting ready to leave. As reliable as clockwork, she moves towards their table, issuing a thanks for their patronage. He watched her as she busied herself busing the table, removing a damp cloth from a hidden pocket to clean the surface of the table, as she collected the dishes.

He watched as she bent over to collect a stray coffee cup perched on a windowsill adjacent to the table, and felt his face begin to flush, as she leaned further forward Richard was afforded with an ample view of her butt. Round and supple, he felt his heart beat go wild, as he spied on her. Every rational part of him insisted that he look away, but her butt was so cute and round, and he was a guy after all. It was expected of him to sneak a peek every once and awhile.

She turned to face Richard, while he was still watching her, and he freaked. He knew by doing so he was giving himself away, however he was prone to bad behavior when it came to women. Turning the stool quickly, he righted himself and tried to pretend he was studying the menu. Trying to play it cool, and nonchalant, he even began to hum the tune from the James Brown ballad that had just finished playing on the Juke.

As he turned slightly, meaning to watch her from the corner of his eye, she sighed. To make matters worse, when Richard saw her, she was shaking her head, which meant that it was almost a sure bet, that she had caught him staring. He felt awkward, knowing that he had hardly broken his gaze upon her. But there was something about this woman that mystified him.

Apparently satisfied with the silent curses she directed towards him for staring, she turned back to the table, and the pile of dishes that were waiting to be dealt with. He watched as she gathered the plates, silverware, cups, coffee carafe, cleaning rag, and tip left by the departing customer. After doing so, she proceeded towards the counter area, expertly balancing the dishes along the way. She walked to an area beside the cash register, and stepped back behind the counter once more, closing the swinging partition behind her as she went.

The waitress noticed him once more, and offered him a smile, one that was both sincere and forced in the same instance. Richard nodded at her, while giving a smile of his own. Never once stopping in the time this series of events took place, she continued to her final destination. Stepping through a doorway located directly behind the cash register, she entered the kitchen area, thus disappearing from his sight. He heard her fumbling with the dishes, listened intently as she muttered a soft curse, and then smiled at her when she reappeared again.

The counter between them, she obviously feels more confident. She walked over to him, taking a notepad from her apron and standing in front of him, she looked at him in a questioning manner, waiting to hear his order.

But Richard is still studying her features, and has not thought of food. She is not wearing any make-up. But her skin is still soft looking, he can smell the fragrance of her perfume in the air, a mixture of floral scents. Lily, jasmine, and rose. There was also another hidden scent, one which his nose detected, but could not identify. Whatever the case, the mixture of fragrances is intoxicating, and adds to her overall beauty.

He also noticed for the first time that she was wearing a bindi. A It is simple; but elegant, a red jewel, made to look like a ruby. It is ornamental and traditional, while adding an air of mystery, and a whole new layer of charm to her persona.

She spoke to him, her words interrupting his train of thought, and also breaking whatever spell that might've been cast upon him.

"Can I help you sir?" She politely inquired.

"Huh?"

"Are you ready to order?" She asked him this time raising her eyebrow.

He tried to hide his grimace as his mind ran abound. Did she notice him staring? Had he been that obvious? Noticing that his mouth had been agape, he closed it in embarrassment. He swallowed, and cursed his body when his Adam's Apple clicked noticeably.

"Yes. Thanks…. Uh…. May I have scrambled eggs, wheat toast, two sausages, and a glass of chocolate milk please?"

"Gotcha." She jotted his order on a small pad, and disappeared into the kitchen again.

* * *

She brought him his drink only a few seconds after disappearing into her culinary labyrinth, placing in on the counter without words, then immediately retreating back into the depths of the kitchen. Minutes past with little commotion, and finally she returned with his meal, offering a word of thanks, he began to eat at a hearty pace. 

Richard tried to focus on his meal, but he found himself continuously drawn to the waitress. It was an obsession that he could not explain. Usually he was not so indirect when it came to women. He told a woman if he liked her, and that was the end of it. He approach was simple, and always straight-forward. Well that was the case in most instances anyways. With Starfire it had been different.

Shortly after they met, he developed a crush on her, and tried to nurture that crush into a relationship. It had started with the kiss they had shared, the one she had claimed was an innocent attempt at learning his language, and had never progressed past that point. He had tried to drop little hints, tried to approach the subject indirectly, but nothing had ever developed.

A few weeks ago, he resigned himself to give up trying. And he promised himself that he would not pursue a hopeless romantic endeavor again. That he would always be direct.

Then why was he acting this way now? He knew nothing of this woman, why would he be attracted to her so easily? She was a stranger. Only someone he met in passing, from one point to another. Yet there must be some logical basis for his fascination in her.

Looking at her again, as she spoke to an elderly couple that occupied a corner near the jukebox, he wondered what could be tugging at his mind so constantly, that demanded he focus his attention solely on her. Perhaps it was something of a subconscious matter? The human mind was an intricate thing, and the subconscious a devious part of that mind, a part that only hinted at things from the dark, allowing you to come to the realization of whatever information it possessed slowly and indirectly.

Based on that theory the wheels of his mind began to turn, trying to assess the hidden meaning of what his mind was trying to tell him. Perhaps his was focused on the girl too deeply. Maybe he wasn't supposed to focus on her intently, perhaps she was only associated with what his mind was trying to tell him. But how? Associated with what? With whom?

That was the question. And that was what was really tugging at his mind. Who did this girl remind him of? That question was broad, and could lead him to many answers. But Richard had always found that the simplest answer was usually the correct one.

She was not only a few feet to his left at the cash register, ringing up a bearded trucker for his breakfast, and smiling. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, the edge of his perception, and was gifted with the insight that he had been seeking, though it was not at all what he had expected.


	8. Chapter 7: Confrontational Conversation

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a private jet."

**Foreword & Notes  
**In this chapter things start to pick up, and for those of you who have been waiting to see how the others would react once Robin's disappearance is brought fully to light, this is what you've been waiting for. I'd like to give thanks to my Beta Aya for her help with this chapter.

Also, some of you may notice that I use the proper name of "Raven Roth" in this story, instead of "Rachael Roth". Why? Well, even though her mother was Human, she was never really raised on Earth, so it seems kind of silly that she would refer to herself by an Earth name. This theory of mine is further supported by the fact that Raven's mother never used the name Rachael in the Animated Series. While you will notice that in continuing my story, Raven will use the name Rachael, she will think of it as more of an alias than her given name.

I apologize if this might bother some readers.

**The Future**  
Burning French Fries, and Richard fighting for his life?

* * *

Chapter Seven  
A Confrontational Conversation

_Friendship... is not something you learn in school.  
But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship,  
you really haven't learned anything.  
- Muhammad Ali  
_

_Duck and Run - 3 Doors Down_

Garfield Logan, the boy who could take the form of any beast, was with his friends in the main room of Titan's Tower. He was contemplating the news he had just been given, though his mind was only slowly coming to terms with it. It was only a few minutes past ten in the morning, still quite early for Gar, and since he was dragged into this conversation nearly an hour ago, they had made little progress in deciding what to do.

They had roused him from a rather peaceful sleep, which was something he didn't frequently get to have these days, his slumber was usually troubled by nightmares, which ended with him waking in a cold sweat, and left him plagued with thoughts of the past well until morning.

But last night was different, he had passed the night away in a deep and relaxing dreamless sleep. Some time during the wee hours, while curled in bed, he had taken the form of a leopard. This was both a new, and an old experience for Garfield. He routinely took the form of a cat when he slept. Why? Because cats knew how to relax. They were carefree, and able to tune out the rest of the world, unlike their canine counterparts. So if you wanted to sleep, really sleep, you take the form of a cat. That was nothing new for Garfield. He did it as many as three nights a week. However, he had never before taken the form of a leopard. Usually he assumed the form of a house cat, but nothing as feral as a leopard, it was an animal better left in the vast depths of untamed jungle where it thrived.

Either way, he had been sleeping peacefully, and they had roused him from it. Well, it was mostly Starfire. She had somehow deactivated the security lock on his door, frantically barged in, yelling his name loudly, and beckoning him to wake up. These actions, which could be considered as rude, were completely understandable when given the circumstances in which they took place.

But what made matters worse, was that he had still been in the form of a leopard, when Starfire entered his room to wake him. Leopards are gifted with highly developed senses, senses made powerful by natural evolution, expressly for the purpose of hunting prey in the wild. Leopards didn't have the luxury of Pizza Hut. Their sense of smell is so accurate that they can pick up the odorous essence of blood from miles away. Sense of sight so sharp that they can discern movement in vegetation from fifty yards, even in the depth of darkest night. Sense of taste so acute that a fresh kill could taste as palatable as a barbeque steak. And a sense of sound so developed, that the heavy pant of a panicked animal could be detected during a thunderous storm.

It was the sense of sound that ultimately betrayed him. When she entered the room so loudly, yelling as she did so, Garfield's sleeping mind arose with the idea that they were being attacked, and that Starfire had issued a fierce battle cry. Though dull with sleep, his mind jumped to life, and a million possibilities ran through it. Doctor Light. Mad Mod. Control Freak. Mammoth. Leaping out of bed, claws sharp, he was ready to pounce. Garfield had been ready for anything, just not the sight of Starfire in her sleeping attire, wearing the pink bunny slippers he had given her.

Even now he was still as confused as when he had first awakened, trying to follow the conversation between Starfire and Cyborg as best he could, while adding in his two cents worth. His words of wisdom were few and far between, and he stood quietly, which was very unlike him. Truthfully, he wasn't sure what to think yet, and he intended to remain silent until he found something good to say. Because long ago baby Garfield had been taught that if he had nothing good to say, he should not say anything at all.

But one thing was certain, he was beginning to worry about Starfire. She had taken the time to change, and was no longer clad in pajamas or sporting bunnies, however she was still just as frantic as when this whole mess had started.

Kori was visibly distraught, she was pacing back in forth like a caged animal, muttering to herself in an incoherent tongue, while small tears flowed from her eyes. Between unintelligible murmurs and through the tears, she kept clenching her jaw in frustration, as if she were holding back a tidal wave of unspoken words, that if said aloud would crumble the dam of her mental reserves.

"Guys? We should really chill out, I mean, it might not be as bad as it seems." Garfield said this trying to sound upbeat, and happy, and only failed miserably.

"BB is right Star, just because Robin left us doesn't mean that he won't be back," Cyborg chimed in.

"This cannot be the case. Surely there must be some other explanation. He would not leave the team. We are his friends!" Starfire insisted this, her voice cracking slightly with emotion.

"Whoa, whoa. Who said he left us?" Garfield asked.

"Beast Boy, let's go over the facts here. Robin left the tower in the dead of night, didn't tell anyone, deleted his security codes, and ditched his communicator. Seems to me like he split Bro, what else could it be?"

"But why would he do that Friend Cyborg?" Starfire asked.

"I dunno Star, but he must've had a good reason. I mean, you know Robin, he always thinks things through."

Garfield knew this wasn't entirely true. Richard….Robin… Had been through some tough spots. And sometimes he was prone to irrational behavior, though instances of this were few and far between, it was enough to leave him worried about their fearless leader.

"You cannot say that for certain Friend Cyborg. Something may have happened. The Red X may have captured him, or perhaps Slade has sent his minions to lure Robin away from the tower. We MUST go after him!"

The possibility that Slade might have something to do with Robin's abrupt disappearance was an idea that hadn't occurred to Garfield yet. It was a worrisome thought. Slade had left his mark on Robin, it was a scar that had yet to heal. He wouldn't talk about anything that happened. Not a word about Slade had crossed his lips.

"Kori… That doesn't jive, if Robin had been in trouble, he wouldn't have left us like he did, you know that," Cyborg paused. "Besides, I reviewed the security tapes to be sure. He left on his own."

This new information struck a cord with Starfire, her lower lip visibly trembled, but no sound escaped her throat. Abruptly she stopped her pacing, walked past Cyborg, and sat down on the couch saying nothing at all. Her hands were in her lap, and she only stared at them wordlessly.

Out of the corner of his eye Garfield recognized a wisp of movement, a dark plume of ebony slithering across the carpet, that had seemingly appeared from nowhere. The current of the dark cloud was fluidic, as it rose from the floor and ascended towards the ceiling, small tendrils of smoke danced together, intertwining to become something more. The shadow of nothingness began to take form and a familiar face stepped out from within it.

Raven Roth was still a mystery to everyone, and as she emerged from the obsidian mist, Garfield wondered where she had been all morning. They had searched for her for quite awhile, with no success, and had assumed to let her make her way to them as she normally did. It wasn't unusual for the gothic girl to seclude herself from others. Sometimes she insisted that she needed to be alone to meditate, sometimes she gave no explanation at all.

As she walked out of the black fog and into their presence she offered no smile, no words of hello, only a curt nod of her head, a miniscule silent greeting. It was her fashion to be subdued, nonetheless she could also be more than that, she could also be kind, gentle, and graceful. Garfield thought that was as graceful as any entrance that he had ever seen.

She walked past his standing form, his eyes following her path to the couch. The silence that had taken residence in the room still dwelled, as she turned to sit, taking the cushion next to Starfire, three pairs of eyes were focused on her.

Apparently she sensed that they were waiting for her to speak, to offer some kind of alibi for her unknown whereabouts, but she was not taken aback by this, because she only glared back at them, daring them to speak, and as the seconds of silence turned into minutes, she finally spoke.

"What?" Raven growled at them.

"Friend Raven?" Starfire queried her tentatively, almost timidly.

"Yes Star?"

"Where have you been? We searched the entire Tower for you, both high, and low."

"I was visiting some friends Starfire, I was gone before sunrise, and I've been with them for several hours," Raven yawned through her words, as if to empathize that she had not slept well.

"Raven, Robin has disappeared, and I fear for his safety," Starfire told her. "I am worried that he may have left, because he does not wish to be part of the team any longer."

Garfield watched Raven as she was given this news, and if the girl was shocked, she hid the fact very well. The girl was an expert at camouflaging her emotions, but Garfield still expected that she would give some sort of reaction, but the only thing she seemed to offer was silent acceptance.

Turning his eyes away from the girls perched on the sofa, Garfield looked to Cyborg expectantly, hoping that he would have something to say that would make some sense out of everything. However he was only gifted with the sight of Cyborg's back. Victor had been quiet since Raven's appearance, and during her exchange with Starfire, he had moved over to the bay window. He was looking at the ocean, or perhaps out over the horizon, taking in the view of Jump City from afar.

"Look, we're running around in circles here, all of the this is really conjecture, none of us really know why Robin left," Cyborg said.

"I do."

"Huh?" Garfield had almost missed that. "Raven? What did you say?"

"Yo, wait a minute, you talked to Robin?" Cyborg asked while whirling around to look at her.

"He said he needed to find himself. And before you say anything, it wasn't my place to stop him," Raven told them.

Garfield was surprised by this turn of events. If Raven had been aware of Robin's departure, and the reasoning behind it, why didn't she at least tell them that he was gone? Why did she leave them to discover it on their own? Gar was curious, and sought to discover the answers to these questions. But he decided that it would be better not to pose them, afraid that it might spark an argument between the four of them.

"Mysterious as always, huh Rae?"

"What does that mean Victor?" Raven asked.

"It means that I think you know more than you're letting on," Cyborg told her with a hard edge in his voice.

Garfield had to do something. Starfire had finally started to cool down. But if Cyborg egged Raven into an argument, it would only make matters worse, and they didn't need that. He started to get tense, because if Raven really got angry, it was bad. Worse than a nuclear meltdown. Worse than an atomic bomb. She was a force to be reckoned with. He decided that it was best to try and keep the peace.

Garfield stepped up, taking up a spot between Cyborg and Raven, while using his hands to make the time out signal referees used in professional football. Yeah, yeah, it was comical, but it was needed. He saw Starfire smile with a small brightness, that was there for a moment, then quickly dimmed back into a frown.

"Time out here. Referee Logan calls for a time out!" He looked at each of his three friends, meeting their eyes, and offering a smile as he did so. "Dudes, we all need to chill out here. Yeah, the situation sucks. But we're all friends, and if we start fighting, it will only get worse."

"BB's right. If we start fighting, it'll do squat to help the situation," Cyborg agreed.

"Wow Cyborg, those are two words I never thought I'd hear you say," Raven told him.

"I know. It's spooky."

"Hey!" Garfield shouted dramatically, and they all broke into laughter. Even Starfire was consumed in a small fit of giggles.

"Listen Rae, I'm sorry about before," Cyborg said through a belly laugh.

"It's okay."

Apology given, the laughter continued for a few moments, then abruptly stopped as quickly as it started. They were all on better terms than before, and this was the best time to get matters straightened out. Garfield thought that it would not be too much of a problem if he kept the mood light, and asked the first question. He was reluctant to start another war, so he decided that he didn't have to be too brave and ask a direct question, better to ask an open-ended one, and see what she said on her own.

"So Rae? Wanna tell us what you know? Spill the beans?" He asked with a smile.

Raven sat quietly, and everyone waited. Starfire seated next to her. Cyborg standing at the window, with his back to the bay. Beast Boy in the center of it all, still green, and still trying to play referee. They were all in unison this time, and all more at ease. Garfield no longer felt like the room was tainted with bad vibes, voodoo curses, or general heebie-jeebies.

"Robin called me at midnight, and said he needed to speak with me. I met him here, in this room. He told me he needed some time away from the team, that he needed to find himself, and sort some things out." Raven told them this, speaking quickly, letting the truth be heard as fast as she could. "He didn't say anything to the rest of you, because he didn't want you all to worry. He just wants to clear his head."

"But Raven? Why would Robin leave without saying goodbye to us?" Starfire asked.

"Because he didn't want you all to worry," Raven said repeating herself. "Besides, he didn't need to say goodbye, because he'll be back."

Garfield wasn't sure if that was the real reasoning behind Robin's departure. He was sure that Raven was being truthful, because she didn't lie to her friends, but he had the feeling that she might know more than she was letting on. God, now he was thinking like Cyborg.

Whatever the case, Garfield knew what it was like, he knew about needing to clear your head, and regain perspective. He had needed to do so after Terra. Even though she wasn't totally dead, she was frozen in stone, and stolen from their lives. He had needed to clear his head after her loss, to get rid of the demons that haunted him. And even though he had come to terms with her loss, he still had nightmares.

"If Robin has things he needs to get settled, it is fine by me, but I still don't like how he left," Cyborg told them.

"I agree with Friend Cyborg," Starfire said. "Friend Raven? Do you know where Robin went? I wish to find him, and commence the knocking of sense into him."

Starfire turned to Raven, both of them still on the sofa, and looked at her, waiting for an answer. But she did not offer any. She only chewed her lip in silent contemplation.

"I don't think you should go looking for him Kori," Cyborg said. "Considering what Raven told us, Robin needs some time to himself. He'll be better off if we give it to him."

"But…" Starfire said with a pout.

"It doesn't matter anyways, he never told me where he was going." Raven admitted.

"Anything else you can tell us Rae?" Cyborg asked.

"Yeah Cyborg. Robin said that you're in charge," She paused. " Don't let it go to your head Tin Man."


	9. Chapter 8: The Great Burger Conspiracy

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a basketball team."

**Foreword & Notes  
**Well, I am sure that this chapter will come as a great surprise for some of my regular readers, but I'd like you all to rest assured that this is going somewhere. I'm not adding characters and storylines at random. Though it may seem a little confusing at first, the story will reveal itself and unravel its mysteries in time. As a bonus for you folks, I'll be posting an extra chapter on October 31st in celebration of Halloween!

Also, I'm looking for an artist who would like to do some commissioned photos for the story. If you are interested, contact me via a Private Message!

**The Future**  
The Battle Begins!

* * *

Chapter Eight  
The Great Burger Conspiracy

_True friendship is like sound health, the value of it is seldom known until it be lost.  
-Charles Caleb Colton  
_

_Ride Wit' Me - Nelly_

The Big Fool was a ridiculous name for a hamburger, it consisted of two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles and onions, all on a sesame seed bun. The Burger Fool franchise of restaurants made it popular in the late nineties, and it still held the same popularity today. It is constantly consumed by the masses, even considering the calories and fat in just one burger, it remained a staple food for American youth, and adults who were too pressed for time to eat a home cooked meal.

If one were to do some research into the origins of the recipe, they would discover its birthplace was not with the Burger Fool franchise of restaurants, but elsewhere. The original recipe was created by two brothers in the forties, and marketed at their small hometown diners. Dick and Mac McDonald were popular in the burger business, and their diners flourished for years, before the brothers had a falling out, and their joint ventures were abandoned.

The only difference between the Big Fool of today, and the ill-fated McDonald Brothers Big Burger of yesteryear was in the secret sauce. Though one could only guess, it was said that the sauce in the Big Fool was actually Thousand Island Dressing. Though upon posing this question to the Burger Fool corporate offices, you were served with a cease and desist "gag" order. If you further questioned the Burger Fool company as to the illegitimate origins of its burger, daring to mention the MacDonald Brothers, you were served with court papers, and asked to get a lawyer. The practices of the Burger Fool corporation were not illegal, they acted within every guideline of the law. However, the company had its secrets, and intended to protect them.

Virgil Ovid Hawkins also had secrets, and though they were of a more serious nature, he was amused by the parallels he had drawn with the restaurant franchise. He was eating at a Burger Fool now, sitting in a booth away from the commotion of the counter, but near enough to the soda fountain for a refill, he found himself laughing in a somewhat secretive manner.

It was Saturday morning, and the troubles of school were left far behind with the promise of a new weekend. He had met Richie Foley this morning at the Gas Station of Solitude, and after reading the newest comics, including the Marvel masterpiece Uncanny Spiderman #602, they had decided to visit their local Burger Fool for an early lunch.

Virgil had chosen a Spicy Chicken Fool, Curly Fooly Fries, and a Diet Cola. The unstoppable iron gut of the adept Richie Foley had influenced him to choose a less than healthy meal of his own, it consisted of the aforementioned Big Fool burger, Chili Cheesy Fooly Fries, and a large chocolate shake. While Virgil's meal was unhealthy in its own right, Richie's was bathed in fat and calories.

Virgil had once previously warned him about laying off of the chili fries, however Richie had not taken the admonishment to heart, and continued to devour them with great earnest. It would undoubtedly result in poor health, giving Richie a stomach so mountainous that it would rival the mass of Mount Rushmore. Richie had laughed at the idea, which Virgil had voiced just a few minutes ago, before Richie had left to use the restroom.

Before entering the Burger Fool to order, they had been discussing "The Great Burger Conspiracy" as Richie called it, and were both laughing fiendishly about it. The conversation had ceased upon entering the restaurant, but it still held some interest to Richie, and as he returned to the booth they had chosen to share, he approached the conversation once more.

"So Vee, back to this story you were telling me, who is the source for this alleged factual information?" Richie asked this while sitting down, and eying the tray of food on the able in front of him.

"First of all Rich, it is factual, my sources are flawless, this is a conspiracy that has penetrated the highest levels of government" Virgil told him.

"Yeah. Yeah. I get it. 'The Great Burger Conspiracy,' Richie waved his hands in the air as he said this, in a mockery of fright, while laughing at his own brand of humor.

"It's true. The FBI is probably in on it. Maybe the CIA," Virgil said.

"Besides Virgil, how could you slander the good and reputable name of a company that once employed you?" Richie asked him.

"Ugh. Let's not talk about that. It was a momentary lapse of judgment on my part. Besides, Burger Fool is an abomination that has fooled the masses into supporting its growth, and that support all stems from the ill-gotten burger recipe."

"Next you'll tell me that Booster Gold is going to be as big as Superman," Richie told him laughing. "Man Vee, you are getting as bad as the Question with this conspiracy idea."

Virgil and Richie had been friends since childhood, and were very close. They shared a brotherly affection for each other, and Virgil thought of Richie as family. The fact that they had been joking was a normal occurrence for them, but today Virgil sensed a negative undertone in the jokes. Something was bothering his friend, and Virgil intended to get to the bottom of the problem.

"Richie? What's with picking on the League all of a sudden?" Virgil asked this seriously, abruptly switching topics.

Richie had been kind of withdrawn lately, and this apparent bitterness towards the Justice League was another sign of his strange behavior. Virgil supposed that it might have something to do with the events that had taken place only a few weeks ago.

A scientist named Dr. Todd created a cure for the effects of the Big Bang, negating the properties of the gas that was released, thus turning the Meta-Humans the chemical created back to normal humans. No powers. No more mutations, or genetically warped freaks. Many of the Meta-Humans in Dakota City had gladly taken the opportunity, including a Meta-Human known as Talon, who was part of a crime syndicate known run by a nefarious Meta-Human named Ebon.

Since then, and for the past few weeks, things had been relatively quiet. Ebon and his crew still caused

trouble here and there, but their escapades were no longer as frequent as before. The streets also seemed to be less dangerous. Virgil had seen more people out and about lately. Kids playing at local parks, families enjoying themselves at movies. Things were changing.

"Sorry Vee, I guess I've just got a lot on my mind right now," Richie told him.

"Like what? Lemme guess, you're having trouble deciding which college you're going to honor by attending?" Virgil asked while raising an eyebrow.

Richie didn't answer him right away, and that was fine with Virgil, it gave him more time to concentrate on his meal. After all, everyone knows that Curly Fooly Fries aren't good cold. The Good Lord knew that he did not want to waste this meal, Sharon was cooking dinner tonight, and he planned on feigning sick, not actually feeling sick from hunger.

"I've just been thinking Vee, maybe the League is wrong in some respects," Richie told him, between bites of Chili Cheesy Fooly Fries. "I mean that their ideas of good and evil are too clear cut. They look at it from such a black and white viewpoint. Either you're a law-abiding citizen, or a criminal that they need to lay the smackdown on."

"Huh? Where is this coming from Rich?" Virgil asked him.

"Well, since summer vacation started, I've been spending time with Teresa Maza, tutoring her because she's missed out on a great deal of school," Richie said.

Virgil had used his influence as Static to get pardons for many of the Bang Babies that he believed to be truly worthy of a second chance. Those bang babies included Rubberband Man, Nails, and Talon. Teresa Maza, also known as Talon, was a Bang Baby gifted with the powers of flight and the ability to let loose a super-sonic sound wave, similar to the sonic boom produced by an F18 fighter jet when breaking the sound barrier. However she was also cursed with the appearance of a bird, this caused a great deal of turmoil for her, and due to that she was seduced by the villainous Ebon, becoming a member of his gang, and committing crimes alongside him.

"Huh? Rich? How come you didn't tell me you were tutoring Talon?" Virgil asked dumbfounded.

"She isn't Talon anymore, her name is Teresa, and she is a totally different person from the one we used to know," Richie told him.

Virgil thought it was great that Richie had reached out, and tried to help the girl better her life, and put her past behind her, but he had to admit to himself that he still had reservations. Even though Teresa didn't have her powers any longer, could she really be trusted? Besides that, how much did she know about Richie? About Virgil?

Virgil and Richie had also been exposed to the Big Bang, and developed their own powers as a result of it. Virgil had developed electromagnetic powers, and a superhero identity to disguise them. He had become the superhero known as Static. His friend Richie had aided him with his quick wit, ideas, and inventions. In the beginning, Virgil had been on his own as the only superhero in Dakota. Richie was also exposed to the Big Bang, and developed his powers slowly over time. However, when Richie's powers manifested, it was more of an inner transformation. He did not grow horns, or develop the power to shoot laser beams from his eyes, he became a genius, and also an unparalleled inventor. Creating a secret identity for himself, and crime-fighting gadgets to aide him, Richie became Static's sidekick known as Gear.

"Does she know our secrets?" Virgil asked candidly.

"What! No Vee, I'd never tell her that!" Richie paused. "Well, not without discussing it with you first."

Virgil didn't feel betrayed, but he did not exactly like where this was going.

"That still doesn't explain why you've been bashing the League." Virgil said.

"Hmm. Well, it's like this Vee, I helped Teresa study for the aptitude test that the Infinite Bright Foundation puts out," Richie told him, "Teresa aced the test, scoring in the ninety-seven percentile, I saw a copy of her test myself."

"So?"

"So the Infinite Bright Foundation usually awards students who test that highly a college scholarship, and other financial assistance for school. But they didn't offer Teresa anything." Richie said.

"Rich, I'm still not seeing your point here." Virgil told him.

"The foundation is sponsored through charitable donations from the Justice League."

It was finally starting to click into place, and Virgil could see the roundabout point that Richie was getting at, but he didn't really like the insinuation.

"Richie, you don't really think that Teresa lost out on the scholarship, because of the influence of the League, do you? Do you really think they would deny her the opportunity, just because of the mistakes she made in the past?" Virgil asked

"I can't say for sure Virgil, but that is what it looks like," Richie told him.

Richie finished the last of his Chili Cheesy Fooly Fries, and began to work on his burger, between sips of milkshake. Virgil could say nothing, he only sat there, looking at the half-eaten food on his tray. He had a bad feeling about this. This whole conversation was leading somewhere, Virgil was certain as that. As the minutes passed, the silence between they became as thick as Richie's chocolate shake. Finally finishing his burger, Richie broke the silence with a loud burp.

"Virgil, I've been thinking about taking a step back from the whole gig for awhile," Richie told him.

By gig, Richie was referring to the superhero partnership they had formed together. This admission had come as somewhat of a shock to Virgil, who could only look at his friend dumbfounded, while waiting for him to continue.

"Thing is, being with Teresa like I have, it's opened me up to some other possibilities that I've missed out on, and I want to take the time to explore them," Richie admitted.

"What about Frieda?" Virgil asked.

Frieda was Richie's high school crush, a girl he had long sought to date, and maybe even build a relationship with.

"Things between Frieda and me aren't going anywhere, and I feel like Teresa and I have a more mature connection," Richie told him. "She's been completely honest with me about everything."

Virgil was still having trouble grasping the idea that Richie wanted to call it quits so suddenly. Back before he had gained his powers, Richie was almost obsessive about becoming a superhero. Now it seemed like he was willing to cast that all aside, like dust in the wind. Virgil knew he should be supportive of his friend, but a part of him felt as if Richie was choosing a woman, over a friendship that had endured between them for several years. That was unfair to think, Richie really wasn't choosing either of them, he was only doing his best to remain neutral. But then, why did Virgil feel as if he was getting the short end of the stick?

Richie's wristwatch beeped suddenly, he too a moment to look at it, then stood to gather his things. Virgil still had questions that he wanted to ask, but it seemed as if Richie had other obligations.

"That's it then?" Virgil asked.

"What's it? Vee, you're still my best friend, and I'm still going to be there to help you with the technical aspect of things, but I've got to take a less active role, and live a little," Richie said bluntly.

"Alright then," Virgil said.

They shook hands, Virgil doing so without getting up, and Richie left. Simply stating that like Alice's white rabbit, he was late for an important date. And after he left, Virgil just sat there, finishing his chicken sandwich, and wondering why he felt so foolish.


	10. Chapter 9: Twilight Tempest

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG 13 TO R

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own the Coca Cola Company."

**Foreword & Notes**  
As promised I present you with a bonus chapter of Paradox, things finally start to heat up here in this chapter. I know most of you must be questioning my reason for posting this bonus chapter early, I promised it as a Halloween gift. But, I've changed my mind a little bit, I am posting this as a thanks to those of you who have been following my story. Even given the lack of reviews, I'm sure there are several of you. How do I know? I've reached 4,000 hits, so somebody must be reading. If you have been reading, and have yet to review, please take the time to write a few words, I'd love to hear from you.

Also, to make things a little more interesting, I've set up a Forum for this story, on this website. Visit my profile for the link, just click the HOMEPAGE link. As a special way for you to get involved in the story, I'm holding a vote for pairings. Please do not flame the reviews page with your vote, visit the Forum and cast your vote there! Pairing details are listed there are well. Any voted flamed or posted to the reviews section for this story will not be considered.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN - A little early!

**The Future **  
Smoke? Fire! French fries!

* * *

Chapter Nine  
Twilight Tempest

_I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I'm awake, you know?  
- Ernest Hemingway_

_I Can Feel It - DMX_

While the night outside was alive with a fierce storm, Richard slept safely within his room at The Royal Arms Motel. Safely, but not comfortably. The twin bed that he rested on was lumpy and old, it creaked whenever he moved, and there were several instances that he could feel springs poking him through the cotton bed sheet. He almost would've preferred the floor, but he resisted the urge to move, confident that if he stayed still long enough, he would finally fall asleep.

Outside a clap of thunder issued from the heavens. Though the curtains were drawn, Richard could almost sense the thunderheads rolling across the ebony sky. The clouds would be as dark as the night itself, and more likely than not, heavy with a rain that was eager to spill fourth at any moment. The impending storm did not worry him, it left him feeling amused, because it reminded him of tall tales from his childhood. After all, thunder was only the sound of angels bowling.

Richard had rested fitfully since morning. His mind had been plagued with thoughts since his breakfast at the Stackhouse. In truth he was tired of second-guessing himself, he was not the type of person that liked to be hampered by indecision, but a single question had kept surfacing in his mind since this morning. Had he made the correct decision, by starting down this foolish road to redemption?

Outside a heavy rain finally started to fall, in a deluge that would deafen Richard to the world. However it would do nothing to silence his thoughts, his mind was a jumble. He thought of his friends back home. About Raven. About Terra. Even about the waitress from the restaurant. All the errant thoughts clamored for his attention, and he found himself debating whether or not he should continue to feign sleep.

It was the rain the held him at bay. After all, even a mild-mannered hero such as himself was prone to colds, if not careful. And truthfully, he did not feel like getting soaked. Resigned to stay the rest of the night, he finally started to doze, giving himself peacefully over to the realm of dreams.

After what was only a few seconds of unconsciousness Richard began to hear the whisper of Earthly noises from within the rain. The roar of a car engine, the squeal of tires, the sound of a car door slamming, and the crash of breaking glass. This racket invaded his mind, and roused him from his sleep slowly. Upon finally opening his eyes, he looked across the room, to the small LED alarm clock resting on the fossilized television set. It is shortly after ten at night, and he registers that fact as he slowly rose from bed.

Somewhere outside, in the dark soup of the night, a woman screamed. This woke Richard more quickly than a douse of cold water to the face. He became fully alert and awake after hearing the wail of distress. He threw back his covers, quickly climbed out of bed, and stumbled over to a small window. The window, which also housed an air-conditioning unit, provided him an ample view of the parking lot. He pulled back a curtain, and gazed out into the night.

The Royal Arms Motel is an L-shaped building, with the main office, and the Stackhouse on the shorter wing, which left the guestrooms, guest laundry, and housekeeping facilities to span the longer wing. By some irony Richard was given the last room, on the far end of the building. This little slice of luck afforded him with a clear view of the main office, and the Stackhouse.

The office and most of the rooms were dark and vacant. This caused the diner to quickly draw the attention of the eye, almost as effectively as a manmade beacon. The lighted dining area poured illumination out into the night in a muted manner. Someone had drawn the shades, causing the dining area to be hidden from view. Richard found this development to be weird to say the least, and felt something was definitely amiss.

He thought for a moment, using logic to provide back-up to his gut instinct. He had noticed during his prior visit, that the diner was open until midnight. So why would it be bottled up now? It should be catering to evening truckers, and bustling with dinner business by now. The interstate was a popular route, so why close up early?

He turned his attention out to the far end of the parking lot, he saw almost a dozen semis lined in two neat rows. Yeah. The Stackhouse was definitely busy, the customers were there, so what the hell was up? Once again gazing at the diner, he took in the surrounding parking lot, and studied it in more detail. And there it was in the shadows, sticking out like a sore thumb. A car hastily parked askew in front of the diner, the vehicle took up two parking spaces while its engine idled with a cough. The driver's side door was open, and the dome light shone faintly in the distance. Another scream pierced the storm, and Richard decided that this was all the information he needed. It was time to act.

He stepped away from the window, and let the curtain fall shut. He paused, and stood still for a few moments, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the motel room. He didn't want to risk turning on a light that might alert someone. The people in the diner were his first priority, and he knew they needed help, but he could not rush in, trying to save them while half naked.

He bent down, and groped the floor blindly, looking for his jeans and boots, that he had casually tossed there hours before. He found them after only a few seconds, not caring that they were a wrinkled mess. He slipped on his pants, buttoned his fly after some effort, and bent over to put on his boots. Fresh socks? Hah! Who was he trying to impress? He laced and tied his boots quickly, and though shirtless, he couldn't waste any more time. He grabbed his leather jacket from the nightstand next to his bed, shrugged it on, and reached into his left pocket, searching for his mask.

He had found it easily, feeling familiar in his hands, he pulled it out of his pocket. He brought it up to his face, the adhesive already beginning to react to the oils in his skin. He closed his eyes, and attached the mask to his face. He waited a moment for the bonding agent to take hold, before opening them again. He walked quickly to the door, and began to pray that no blood would be spilled this evening.

* * *

She had noticed a run in her stockings, and was pissed. The idea of being upset at such a thing, especially given her current situation; gave credence to the fact that she was just a tad freaked, and focusing on the little things. She had every right to be angry, but she knew she was focusing her anger in the wrong direction. The question that resounded in her mind was a simple one, what made people able to commit such random acts of violence so easily? 

They had come so quickly, and without warning, much like the storm outside. Bursting in, the immediately demanded that everyone get on the ground, and kiss the tile. She remembered hearing the voice of a regular customer, an elderly man named Ellis Jenkins, demanding to know what the hell they were trying to pull, then she heard glass break, and the sounds of a scuffle. The sickening crunch of breaking bone, and squishing sound of broken flesh followed And then, an uneasy silence marred by an agitated wheezing sound as someone gasped for breath.

"Take it easy man! Take it easy!" Someone pleaded.

"Give me the damn wallet then." One of them demanded. "I'll pump you full of lead if you give me anymore crap, you stupid prick; so give me the wallet!"

She had switched places with her brother Kavin for the remainder of her shift. She took over the kitchen duties, while he tended the dining area. She was not as adept in the culinary arts as her brother, but the change of pace was welcome. Especially since some of the more colorful customers arrived in the evening, and they tended to stare at her fiendishly.

She had left french fries to sizzle in the deep fryer, and had set out to start making a couple of chicken fried steaks, but now it was all left abandoned. The oil was now hot and certainly sizzling, cooking the french fries thoroughly, and that worried her. Soon the fries would burn, the oil would begin to smoke, then one of them would enter the kitchen to investigate the smoke, and discover her here.

Had she been in a more lucid state of mind, it might've simple occurred to her to crawl over, and turn off the deep fryer, thereby eliminating the danger the smoke currently posed. However, she was distracted by other more pressing matters. She had not heard the voice of her brother for several moments, and was becoming more and more concerned about his welfare.

The last time she had heard him, was when the bandits had first entered the diner. They had asked him if there was anyone else in the building, and Kavin insisted that there was not. It was a ruse that she was sure would fail, she was certain they would take it upon themselves to verify his statement. And while they did take the initiative to check the restrooms, they had not bothered to check the kitchen. This made her believe that they were either incredibly stupid, or that she was blessed with divine luck.

She listened intently, for any clue as to her brother's welfare, but she was granted something else. She heard someone grunt, some broken words, and then a muttered curse. Someone in the diner was clearly agitated, and it was a safe bet that it was the assailants. She heard a cough, and then someone clearing his throat.

"Alright, everyone listen up! We're tired of playing games with you people. Big Jim is going to go around the room, he'll tap each of you, you'll sit up, put your jewelry, watches, wallets, cell phones, and anything else of value into his nifty sack, and then lay back down and kiss the tile again." There was a pause. "And God help anyone who tries to give us any shit, because they'll be eating a bullet."

The sound of a gunshot pierced the unsettling silence, and as the rapport echoed, and she became aware of how high the stakes really were. She tried to stifle the scream building in her throat, barely succeeding in stopping its escape. She wanted to be strong, and try and keep her cool, maybe figure out a way to diffuse the situation. But the gunshot had proven just how grim things were, and that left her jumpy, her nerves frayed.

The smell of gunpowder assaulted her senses. It was dense and cloying. She tried to breathe shallowly, hoping to rid herself of the metallic taste that lingered in the back of her mouth. The smell of the gunpowder was dense and strong, with an almost acidic quality that reminded her of death.

"Next time it won't be the ceiling folks. It's raining like hell outside, and with the thunder, nobody will hear a couple of gunshots. So don't tempt me."

This warning was issued in an almost polite and friendly manner that she found severely disturbing. The man issuing those words was surely crazy. She found herself saying a silent prayer, giving thanks that nobody had been shot. It was on the heels of that first prayer, that she finally heard the voice of her brother once more, and instantly began a second prayer on his behalf.

"Please sir, just give them some slack. I'm sure they will listen to you. But we are all frightened here." She heard Kavin say. His voice was brave and humble. His words drifted in from the dining area, a powerful voice of reason in this madness.

"Listen to me Chef Boyardee, I don't need some kindness lesson from you. What I need you to do is stand up, walk over to the goddamned register, and get all of the cash out of it." She listened to the exchange, which was followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps, and the ding of the cash register opening. There was a maniacal giggle of glee, the sound of coins falling to the tile floor.

She was sitting on the floor, cold tile chilling her body. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and her arms were clasped around her legs in a haphazard manner. She had hidden behind the dishwasher, the door to the dining area directly behind her.

What now? What next? She had sat here for too long, held rapt with anxiety and indecision. She glanced to her right, to the rear service door. It led to a narrow alleyway that provided access to dumpsters, and a staging area for small deliveries of goods from vendors that serviced both the motel, and the Stackhouse. It also led to the main office in a roundabout way. The office was currently vacant, they had handled the check-in duties at the Stackhouse tonight, so that their parents could enjoy a much deserved night out. If her parents had been here, they would've called the police by now, but they went for dinner and a movie, perhaps never considering they might return to a bloodbath.

She could go to the office though, call the police, and the cops could surprise the criminals before they tried to flee. Both the service door here in the kitchen, and the office door were unlocked, as they were required to make frequent trips back and fourth. It was her best chance. Better than sitting here and doing nothing.

She unclasped her hands, and leaned forward, first crouching slightly, and then getting on her hands and knees. She began to crawl forward, and was going steadily enough. The door inched slowly closer, as she moved as quickly and quietly as possible towards it. Time was almost at a standstill, for her things moved almost as quickly as molasses.

She gazed up longingly at the doorknob, less than three feet away from it, she could almost feel the freedom of night within her grasp. She crawled forward, and reached out to take hold of the doorknob, ready to feel triumphant in her quick escape. Her dream was shattered as the doorknob rattled it its frame, and slowly began to turn.

She cursed silently, there was no time to hide.

* * *

Richard opened the door of his room slowly, holding the doorknob tightly in his clenched fist, he pulled the door back only a few inches, enough so that he could peek out into the darkness, and survey his surroundings. The parking lot was still empty, as it had been moments before. He was being too cautious, wasting precious seconds trying to determine if it was safe to approach the diner. But this was futile effort, he would go to the diner, whether it was safe or not, because it was clear somebody in there needed some help. 

_So get your butt in gear Grayson! _

He chided himself, throwing back the door, and preparing to cross the threshold, when it happened. The muffled sound of a gunshot pierced the night with an eerie clarity that seemed almost supernatural in origin. The sound came clearly to him, and he was able to identify it quickly, but to the untrained ear, it would seem like nothing more than the unruly, coughing backfire of an neglected car engine.

Richard had been dreading this, hoping that his instincts were wrong. That paranoid had once again seeped into his mind during the dreamless fog of sleep. But the gunshot was real. He had heard it, and no amount of wishing would change what had happened. The situation was simple. A woman had screamed in distress, and there was a gunshot. There were many shades of gray to this scenario, unknown variables which he could never hope to calculate or fathom, but he had little time to contemplate them. He had little time to be careful or make wise decisions. He was out of options, he could only react.

Richard ran out into the night, and was immediately engulfed in rain, it drenched his body and left his clothes a soggy mess within seconds. He launched himself off of the sidewalk, and ran haphazardly into the parking lot, veering past a large pothole that was filled with water, he made his way towards the Stackhouse as quickly as possible.

_Wait! You're forgetting something Dick!_

The car. He changed his course, deciding to make an abrupt stop to investigate the vehicle. He approached it quickly, while taking little more than a fraction of a second to decide on a course of action when it came to dealing with the errant machine. The car was a rusting hulk, an older model Ford Tempo Wagon, that had definitely seen better days.

The Tempo sat on aging tires that were weather worn, and cracked along the sidewalls. The driver side door, that still stood open as if to invite in the rain, was dented in several places, and marred with scratches. The antenna, along with the rearview mirror were completely missing. Richard couldn't tell what color the ancient Ford had been when it had originally rolled off of the production line, but now it sported a primer gray shell that was accented with patches of rust.

Richard slowed down, falling into a light jog, then only walking at a frantic pace, he stepped closer to the Tempo, and gazed inside the driver's side of the vehicle. The interior was a mess. There was garbage strewn everywhere. Discarded Styrofoam coffee cups, cigarette butts, and old candy wrappers lined the dashboard. The floorboards were worse, littered with burger wrappers, beer cans, and old matchsticks. There was also an unintelligible amount of staining on the seats, from fast food meals long past. Here a smudge of bean burrito, there a blotch of ketchup. A few old French fries stood sentry on the driver seat, as if protecting the vehicle for the missing driver.

The Tempo's dome light cast a waxy yellow glow across his face, it's engine still running with an air of discontent, it wheezed and sputtered like a veteran racehorse past its prime. He had no way of knowing for certain that this car belonged to the assailants inside, but his gut told him it did. That was enough for Dick Grayson. He didn't have time to debate the chances with himself, so he was going to go with his gut instinct.

_Time to cut off their escape. Not that they'd ever make it that far._

Richard smiled grimly at his morbid humor, while reaching into the vehicle, meaning to make a grab for the keys. But he met no surprise when he discovered that there were no keys to be had, the steering column was severely damaged, they had jammed a screwdriver into the ignition, and used it to start the care. A more careless way of hotwiring the vehicle.

He stood up, thinking for a moment, and decided to do the next best thing. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulled out his Swiss Army Knife, and then walked to the front of the car. He did it all in one fluid motion, bending over, feeling for the driver side tire, then opening the largest blade the knife held. This knife was made for a Boy Scout, or amateur woodsman, and Raven teased him constantly about owning it. But tonight, it would come in handy.

He felt a grim sense of satisfaction as he drew the knife back, and slightly over his head, then swiftly plunged its blade into the sidewall of the tire. The rubber resisted at first, putting up its best effort to stay intact, but finally gave way. The knife had gone deep, but Richard was not done yet, he pulled the blade swiftly to the left, turning the small puncture into a gash.

Compressed air had already started to vent from the tire, as he pulled the knife free. The smell of rubber was strong, and almost triggered his gag reflex, Richard stood quickly to avoid nausea. He closed the knife, and stuffed it back into the butt pocket of his jeans, as the tire rapidly deflated. That task completed, he turned away from the wrecked Tempo, and looked towards the diner once more.

There was still twenty feet of parking lot between him and the entrance to the diner, but he decided there was little chance of him being seen, even from here. The storm hid him. Ceaseless barrages of raindrops shattered against the blacktop with force, creating such a froth and dancing spray that the parking lot appeared to be aboil.

While the rain hid him from view of anyone who might be peering out into the night, from within the diner, it also obscured his vision substantially. However from this vantage point, he was able to make out the murky outline of a dumpster on the side of the diner. The dumpster gave him and idea, and he ran toward his target, with renewed speed and purpose.


	11. Chapter 10: A Chance Encounter

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG 13 TO R

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own MTV."

**Foreword & Notes**  
A belated Happy Halloween to all you boys and ghouls out there. Tonight on this chillingly cold November evening, I bring you a trick and a treat. The treat is the next chapter of Paradox, which is a little shorter than usual, but fear not, for it will still leave your breathless. The trick will not be played on you, but was played on me. How so? Technical difficulties caused me to lose two chapters of my story, so I am a bit behind. But rest assured that this will not impede or delay further updates. Do give me a treat for Halloween, and review, won't you?

**The Future **  
Richard gets a headshot... Literally...

* * *

Chapter Ten  
A Chance Encounter

"_You often meet your fate on the road you take to avoid it."  
-French Proverb_

_Fortunate Son - Creedence Clearwater Revival _

_The greatest weapon any man can possess is his mind._

He needed to gain entry into the diner unnoticed. After seeing the dumpster alongside of the diner, the solution to his problem presented itself. Not with a bang, or a crash, but with a whimper. Logic dictated that where there was a dumpster, there would also be a rear service door, allowing for easy disposal of waste.

Giving the dumpster a wide berth as he ran past it, not wishing to sample the dank smells lingering in the air around it, he noticed the service door. The door was wider than your average entryway, most likely to accommodate large deliveries of produce or other goods. The door was set back into the brick wall, to provide extra security, there was a small awning hanging over the doorway, protecting a bare light bulb from the elements.

Richard smiled bitterly. Logic won again. Whatever happened to leaving things up to fate? As an acrobat, you had to leave a lot up to fate. Sure, you were safe and well, when you swung from the trapeze and had a partner to rely on. But when you launch into the air, hoping to make it from one set of bars to another, it was ultimately up to fate to determine whether you would soar or fall.

Running toward the door, his stride was almost frantic, but with his objective in sight he pushed on. Finally coming within arms length of the doorknob, he abruptly stopped running. Standing under the awning, only slightly protected from the rain, Richard took a moment to compose himself, and struggled to gain control of his heartbeat. He expelled air from his lungs in heaving gasps, waiting for his repertory functions to slow.

He was starting to feel the ill effects of the adrenaline that was pumping through his nervous system. Though it had helped his come to his senses quite quickly, allowing him to plunge into the night, it provided nothing more than a brief surge of energy, that energy giving way to exhaustion.

_Heroes don't have the luxury of being tired._

Richard didn't feel like a hero right now. But regardless of that, he did not have the luxury of taking a break, or letting himself wane. He had to help those, who couldn't help themselves. Whether he liked it or not, that was his fate, and whether he liked it or not, he had to respect his fate.

Richard stepped forward to grasp the door handle, and issued a silent prayer, as he tightened his grip while trying to turn the knob. The knob turned slightly, with an ease that surprised him greatly. He felt a small sense of satisfaction as the tumblers gave way, and he was able to push the door inward. As the door swung open, quiet as a serpent on well-oiled hinges, Richard was given reason to feel a growing sense of alarm. Obsidian smoke poured out of the doorway, and flooded the night, coming from somewhere within the building. Richard stepped back as the bitter scent of the smoke invaded his senses.

He held his breath and resisted to inhale, certain that if he did breathe in some of the smoke, it would cause him to have a choking fit. His eyes began to burn and his nostrils flared as the acidic smoke danced around his head, forming a massively entangled ebony halo.

After a few seconds the smoke began to dissipate, though it still flowed from within the building, it was only in a small stream that would be only a minor nuisance to Richard. He stepped forward and into the threshold of the doorway, while using his boot to lightly kick the door further inward.

Though he is only standing on the threshold, he afforded with a decent view, of the Stackhouse kitchen. It is somewhat cramped in size, but neat and organized nonetheless. The doorway opened into the kitchen, from the right-hand corner of the room. Directly ahead of him was a stove and griddle combination that sat against the wall. Sitting in a skillet on top of the stove is what looks like uncooked chicken patties. But that is not what held him aghast, it was what was beside the stove that caught his eye. On the side of the stove, that was opposite from him, there was an industrial deep fryer.

The deep fryer had been in use recently, and from the looks of it was still boiling away, as hot as ever. Oil sizzled from within the fryer, this molten liquid obviously cooking something past the point of golden crispy. The oil hissed and popped, bubbling away madly like some arcane elixir, in a witch's cauldron. Smoke rose continuously from the deep fryer, billowing up to the ceiling, and covering it in a thick ebony blanket.

_What idiots! Haven't they noticed the smoke? Guess not. But I can use it to my advantage._

The center of the room is dominated by a large stainless steel prep table, the top of which is littered with various cooking utensils neatly arranged in several old coffee cans. Hanging suspended above this table are several frying pans, cutting boards, and spatulas on a stainless steel pot rack.

Glancing to the left, Richard saw an industrial dishwasher, a large sink filled with dirty dinner dishes, and an industrial freezer. The wall ahead of him is dominated by a large shelving unit that spanned its entire length. The shelves were homemade, but made with a decent craftsmanship, they were lined with dry goods, and additional kitchen utensils and appliances.

Richard's train of thought was interrupted by a small dry cough. It was almost more of a light whispery sigh, than a cough. That was when he first noticed her. He had not looked down because he was disinterested in the tile, that was a mistake and the reason he had not noticed her before.

It was definitely the same girl, the waitress that he had admired this morning with his dumbfounded stare. She was on her hands and knees, her body pressed rather low to the burnt orange tile floor. Her head was turned up to him, and for a moment Richard believed he saw a shade of recognition in her eyes. But as quickly as she had recognized him, that recognition turned to fear and her lower lip trembled slightly.

She was still wearing her bindi, but everything had changed since the last time he had seen her. Her hair was wound into a tight bun, which was held in place by a hairnet. She wore a kitchen apron, that hung loosely from her body, bunching up at her knees. She still wore the same skirt as this morning, but it was now in a more disheveled state.

_Richard! What the hell are you doing? You're not supposed to be checking this girl out! _

Looking again at her face, Richard can see that her fear was going to overtake her, and cause her to do something rash if he wasn't able to get through to her. He raised his index finger to his lips, gesturing for her to remain silent. He smiled a little as he did this, trying to reassure her as best as possible. Richard left his index finger pressed against his lips, hoping that she would get the idea.

He raised his other hand and gave her a thumbs-up sign, he then drew the hand back, and gestured over his shoulder to the night outside. She pouted a little as he did this, seemingly confused with him at first, then nodding to him in understanding. He dropped his thumbs-up hand, and extended it out to her with his palm open. He felt like a fool while silently hoping she would take it, but is quite satisfied when she lifted her hand off of the tile to take his.

When her hand came into contact with his, several things occurred. Richard's heartbeat quickened, he held his breath, and he was overcome with a sense of déjà vu. It was a feeling he could not explain. It was as if he had met this woman before, but he had no recollection of ever seeing her before he encountered her in the Stackhouse this morning for breakfast.

Regardless of the déjà vu, Richard felt nervous in the company of this woman. The idea that he could face down homicidal maniacs, and yet feel self-conscious around this mild-mannered waitress, left him feeling taken aback. Trying to shake this thought from his mind, Richard pulled her quickly to her feet. His movement was rather abrupt and unexpected, this left her off balance as she became fully erect.

She almost stumbled forward, which left Richard with the grim task of tying to catch her while remaining proper. He used both hands to try and steady her, pulling her up and closer to his chest, and finally to eye level. Their bodies sway for a moment, like tree branches caught in the wind., Richard spent that moment fiercely intent on keeping his balance. He had almost fallen along with her.

It is then, while she was leaning against him, that Richard realized just how distraught she really was. Her entire body was shaking, he could feel her tremble in his grasp. Her breath was coming out in ragged gasps, and her forehead seemed to be covered in a light sheen of sweat. She pulled back and away from him. Richard was standing just outside the doorway, under the awning, and she was standing inside the kitchen on the rain-soaked tile floor.

She still held onto his hand, so Richard pulled her toward him, and into the night. He stepped back slowly as he did so, not wanting to put her off balance again. She joined him under the awning, sheltered from the rain. Richard glanced behind her, into the kitchen, looking for signs of movement. He saw none, but did notice that the smoke was becoming thicker, and more abundant. This would leave them little time for talk. He could not hear any sounds from within the building, and prayed that it would work both ways, and that nobody would overhear their conversation.

"What is your name?" Richard asked her gruffly.

"Sanjana."

"I'm not going to hurt you Sanjana." He paused. "What is going on inside of the restaurant?"

"Two men are robbing us." Her voice is barely a whisper.

"Us?" He asked.

"My brother is in there, with some of the patrons, they are being held hostage."

_Shit! This isn't a game anymore._

"Alright. Find a phone. Call the police. Don't come back." He spoke to her gently while maintaining a firm tone in his voce that would leave her no room for argument. Or so he hoped.

Apparently she knew when to pick her fights, and when to listen to the suggestions of strangers. She ran past him, and into the rain without sparing him another word. Perhaps she was eager to get away from him, or perhaps she was eager to help. Whatever the case, Richard glanced over his shoulder, trying to trace her route, and noticed that she was running toward the dumpster, in the direction he had come from.

Richard Grayson had his back to the rain, and was prepared to enter the smoke filled labyrinth, resigned to vanquish whatever monsters it held within. To him there was no distinction between monsters of the human variety, and monsters of the supernatural world. Ghostly wisps of smoke danced around his head in a macabre halo, and to him it was all for the better.


	12. Chatper 11: Confrontation!

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG 13

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own stock in Google."

**Foreword & Notes**  
Confrontation is the shortest chapter I've written so far, and it seems to go by quite quickly. So to compensate for the short installment of Paradox, I'll be updating again in one week, think of it as a bonus chapter, a bit of a present to celebrate the approaching holidays? In other news, I've decided to extend voting for pairings, due to the fact that I've only gotten two votes! You can vote for the pairings you'd like to see in Paradox, by posting your choice on my Paradox Forum. To get to the forum, please visit my profile.

**The Future**  
More gunshots! Richard is caught off guard!

* * *

Chapter Eleven  
Confrontation!

_  
Beware of the fury of the patient man._  
-_John Dryden_

_One Step Closer - Linkin Park_

Saying a silent prayer to himself, Richard Grayson stepped back into the kitchen. The billowing smoke parted as he stepped forward, but only did so as he moved against it, not in anticipation of him as the Red Sea had parted for Moses. Whatever the case, he paused for a moment once inside the kitchen, waiting for the smoke to settle, and the haze to fade, so he could better take in his surroundings.

One thing that fighting crime had taught him, was that for all the training and battle drills, sometimes you had to improvise. Learning to use your surroundings to your advantage was part of that credo, and along those lines the smoke would provide a perfect distraction, as well as afford him with a bit of camouflage.

Richard spared a brief look at the deep fryer, and found himself wondering why the sprinkler system hadn't kicked in yet. Water should've doused the place by now, but with the exception of the growing puddle by the open doorway behind him, the place was bone dry. The reasonable deduction was always the most sound. Either there was not any sprinkler system, or it did not function correctly. Still no reason to rob the place.

The wall directly ahead of him was solid, and lined with dry goods. Glancing to the right, he noticed that the same was true for that wall as well. It was solid, and bare. Marred only by the stove, and the smoking deep fryer. His best guess was that the doorway to the dining room was in the left-hand corner of the room, hidden from view by the large industrial freezer that stood humming sentinel.

Having determined that, Richard began to creep slowly toward the freezer, meaning to make the most direct approach possible, while trying to remain as silent as a cat burglar. Stepping past the prep table, he stopped for a moment for brief consideration, then reached up to relieve a cast-iron skillet from its hanging hook. The weight of the skillet felt good in his hands, and though he was not ready to make an omelet, he could use it to crack a few bad eggs.

Richard continued his approach toward the industrial freezer walking slowly, his footfalls were deliberate and timed. As he moved forward, he stepped with caution, most of his weight landing on his heel and flowing to his toes. It was his best impression of a cat burglar's gait, as idiotic as he may have looked walking that way, it seemed to work effectively. He was worried that the tile floor would amplify the sound of his footsteps, and lead to his discovery, sometimes slow and steady really was better.

_These idiots picked the wrong night to cause trouble._

He pressed his back to the front of the freezer, and edged forward slightly, peeking his head around the corner. From his vantage point the view was severely lacking. All he could get a clear view of, was the cash wrap area, and the entrance beyond it. The cash register was a jumble with the drawer open, coins littered the tile floor like discarded trash, the change drawer itself was lying forgotten on the counter, near the turnstile.

It was a simple robbery, this discovery disgusted Richard to an extent further than he had thought possible. It was a brutal and meaningless crime, based on one of the seven deadly sins, pure and simple greed. It was an unbiased sin, one that wreaked untold havoc on society as a whole. People were routinely killed because of greed, it was almost accepted as a social norm. Richard vowed that no innocent would die tonight because of the avarice of evil men.

Purely on instinct he glanced up toward the ceiling, thick ebony smoke inched along the textured plaster, flowing in the direction of the dining area. It would only be a matter of moments before someone noticed it, and called attention to it. He was actually surprised that they hadn't come across the deep fryer already.

_Were they really that dumb? Hadn't they thought to secure the building after they burst in?_

Whatever the case, the smoke left luck in his favor, and would give him a much needed diversion. Listening intently, he waited to see what would happen next. Muffled voices and broken sobs could be heard from the dining area. It was almost enough to prod Richard into action. But he hesitated knowing that his moment would come. With the hiss and pop of the burning oil at his back, he tried to be patient. He would only have one shot to come out of this unscathed, and he knew that he had to wait for the right time to strike.

Finally one of them spoke…..

* * *

"Whaddya mean this is all you got lady?" One of the thugs bellowed.

The nameless lady, who had already been sobbing before the ogre had bellowed at her, only cried harder because of the verbal assault. The words seemed to cut through her resolved more precisely than any knife ever could. There was the shuffle of footsteps, followed by a seemingly simple question.

"What's her contribution Big Jim? How much did you squeeze from her?" Another man asked.

"A five." Big Jim replied.

"A Five? A lousy stinking five? Are you kiddin' me? Jesus jumping Christ, I couldn't wipe my ass with that. If you care about the kid in that gut of yours, than you better cough something else up."

The crying woman was apparently also pregnant, and at the mention of harm to her baby, her sobs became more heart wrenching and agonized. From his hiding place in the kitchen, back still pressed against the freezer doors, Richard burned with a fury that was as white hot as a sun. The skillet was in his right hand, and he gripped it tighter, only wishing to bash in a skull or two.

Elsewhere in the room, someone unleashed a muffled sneeze followed by a faint cough. That was his cue.

"Is that smoke?" Big Jim asked dumbfounded.

"Sure is. What the hell?" The pregnant lady moaned. "Shut yer trap lady, or I'll really give ya something to cry about."

"Dunno Kid Ray, want me to check it out?"

"Yeah Jimbo."

Richard could hear lumbering footsteps approach, heard the turnstile being thrown up, watched as it collided with the cash drawer, and finally pulled his head back, deciding he was done sneaking a peek. Taking a few steps back, he once again pressed his body against the freezer doors.

The smoke was thicker now, it filled his nostrils with the smell of burning, and left him struggling with the urge to sneeze. He inhaled in short bursts, hoping that the smoke would not begin to affect his vision as quickly as it had affected his lungs.

Footsteps from behind him suggested that the lummox known as Big Jim had stepped behind the counter, and was in he cash wrap area. The soft clink of the scattered coins confirmed this assumption, which was further supported by the large shadow that fell across the threshold of the doorway, and extended into the kitchen.

"Something's burning Ray."

"No shit. Check it out, will ya? We don't have time for this crap, we need to bail. But if this place goes up in smoke, they'll be after us like white on rice, dig it?"


	13. Chapter 12: Kitchen Chaos!

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG 13

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a turkey."

**Foreword & Notes**  
Hello fellow Fiction Hounds, here I am again, bringing you the latest installment of Paradox, consider it the Holiday Special Edition in honor of Thanksgiving! For those of you who do not celebrate the holiday, do not fear, because you are still able to reap the benefits! After this chapter, I will resume my normal posting schedule, by posting on a bi-weekly basis. I've got to write more, because as of now, I'm only two chapters ahead of this installment! I was further along the storyline, but my computer crashed, and I lost a small amount of the text. I think the rewrite is better for it!

In other news, I've decided to extend voting for pairings, due to the fact that I've only gotten two votes! You can vote for the pairings you'd like to see in Paradox, by posting your choice on my Paradox Forum. To get to the forum, please visit my profile.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING! HAPPY HOLIDAYS! PEACE, LOVE, AND LOTS OF PIE!

Mmm... Pie...

**The Future**  
Chasing a star, an unexpected savior, and a stolen kiss.

* * *

Chapter Twelve  
Kitchen Chaos!

_In violence we forget who we are.  
-Mary McCarthy_

_Chop Suey - System of a Down_

Apparently Big Jim did dig it, still standing on the threshold of the doorway, he crossed into the kitchen. Richard watched in silent anticipation as the shadow of the man began to move, advancing further into the kitchen. The thug stepped forward quickly, passing Richard without notice. This surprised the young hero, who had been certain he would be discovered. But with his back pressed firmly against the freezer doors, perhaps he was too small to be noticed by the giant known as Big Jim. Though the notion that he had not been seen struck Richard as absurd. In the process of entering the kitchen, Big Jim had walked completely past him, they had even been side-to-side at one point, and Richard was still undiscovered.

_Fortune favors the bold!_

Big Jim walked forward, his eyes intent on the source of the smoke. He then stopped abruptly. Richard who was three feet behind him, and slightly to the right, feared he had finally been discovered. But the mountainous man only stood there, as if he were indecisive or lost. Whatever the case, Richard took this time to study the man, and decide on his best course of action.

Standing at six feet tall, the petty thug was a behemoth. He easily weighed three hundred pounds, Richard did not write him off as defenseless. The weight was evenly distributed from head to toe, and while the man might have been massively bulky, it was more than likely mostly muscle. Now seeing the weight of this man, Richard distinctly understood what had caused the tires of their lame getaway vehicle to give way so easily to the blade of his knife.

Big Jim sported a mane of matted and greasy rust red hair that looked as if it was not on very good terms with shampoo. He wore a black leather jacket, and dirty grey sweat pants that had probably seen better days. He also carried a solid oak The giant grunted, and then farted loudly. The stench was heavy and cloying, it had an odor that was reminiscent of sulfur and rotten eggs. Richard had to strive to fight his gag reflex, while trying to remain silent at the same time.

_At least he doesn't smell as bad as Plasmus_

The deep fryer was on the right side of the room. Big Jim would have to cut diagonally across the room, and around the prep table to get to it. There was a large chance that Richard would be spotted if Big Jim took this route. Given the size of the man, Richard knew he would not be able to take him down quietly enough, if he had to attack him head on.

Big Jim noticed the deep fryer, and started to move towards it. Richard counted his steps, as the gap between them widened. Four feet. Five feet. Six feet. He was nearing the edge of the prep table when Richard made his move. He transferred the skillet to his left hand, tightened his grip on it, and ran forward.

He moved swiftly, and was less than two feet from the giant when he jumped. Launching himself into the air, he moved simultaneously to deliver his desired blows. He twisted his body to the left, and brought his leg up quickly, he had turned a full three hundred and sixty degrees when his left leg connected with the giant's shoulder. Richard had hit him hard, and was already losing momentum, he would land soon, but not before he tried for another blow. When he had jumped into the roundhouse kick, Richard had been holding the skillet over his right shoulder, he now swung his arm quickly to the left, and felt the skillet connect with flesh.

With that, he had lost his air and began to fall backward. While still in the air he attempted to right himself, and put his feet underneath himself. But he fell more quickly than anticipated, and landed on his knees. A searing bolt of pain shot through his legs, and up his thighs, causing his muscles to spasm.

He had hit Big Jim in the side of his head, slightly below the ear, and had heard the crunch of breaking bone. The two blows had landed in less than five seconds, and had surpassed his expectations, he had executed them swiftly and accurately. However Big Jim was left still standing, and this concerned Richard. The giant was silent, teetering on his feet, but the assault was not enough to make him fall. The pain in his legs left Richard still unable to move, and at a slight disadvantage.

Richard wasn't usually one to play dirty, however after all that had happened tonight, he was seriously pissed off. He jumped to his feet, ignoring the pins and needles that had started to form in his legs. He raised the skillet high, pulling it back over his shoulder, he rotated it in his enclosed fist so that it was turned sideways, and brought it down quickly. It connected between the shoulder blades of the behemoth with a sickening thud, and impacted with such force that the iron vibrated in his hand.

Jim the giant finally reacted, not with a bang, but with a hollow whimper. He groaned and there was a soft gurgle in the back of his throat, something else finally gave and the giant fell to his knees, letting go of the bat. The bat hung in the air, and then fell simultaneously with Big Jim. One landed with a clatter, the other landed on his chin and with a thud.

Richard stood fully erect; able to move his battered legs, the pin and needles finally gone. He had taken the giant down quickly and efficiently, but not without straining himself in the process. He was short of breath, and his knees were issuing their protest in the form of a dull throb. Despite all that, he took a moment to try and gather himself. Breathing in short and ragged gasps, his lungs partaking more of bitter smoke than breathable air, he pondered an odd feeling that had suddenly grasped him.

_This isn't right. Something is wrong._

A simple statement that had a broad meaning. Richard was overcome with a sense of wrongness. Something left him feeling uneasy, but much like the needle hidden in the haystack, the source of this feeling was difficult to pinpoint. Looking around; it seemed to him as if everything was as it was only moments before. The door that Richard had entered through still stood open, the storm outside was still fierce, rain billowed into the kitchen, creating puddles on the floor. The fries still sizzled, enveloped in an oil that was now surely dark as its crude cousin, smoke still rose from the deep fryer.

_Something has changed._

It was this change that Richard pondered. It was that change that he tried to isolate. In this space of time that seemed to stretch like an eternity, only twenty seconds had actually passed, but Richard felt as if things were moving too quickly. He sensed that something was coming and feared that he would be unprepared for it. There was still the sense of wrongness. Richard could hear his own heartbeat, it pounded in his chest rapidly, thump-thumping with the beat of a drum, the chorus to the symphony of life. It was in the space of those few seconds that he realized what was wrong, and it struck a cord with him, causing his heart to pick up the tempo.

_It's too quiet. _

Silence. Not silence from the natural world, the rain was still falling full force. Not silence from the culinary world, the deep fryer was still sizzling and popping. But silence from the human world. Only moments before, Richard could easily discern the sobs and moans of frightened hostages. Now there were none. He had discovered his error, and hoped it was not to late, that his small error would not turn out to be a small andfatal error.

In his effort to incapacitate Big Jim, he had turned his back on the doorway, and even though he had not heard anything suspicious coming from the dining area during his attack, he had the distinct feeling he had been caught. He had the feeling he was being watched from behind.

Richard was not sure if this feeling was just simple paranoia, or whether it was a just a case of unease brought on by the fatigue that was now experiencing. However he had learned not to ignore his instincts. And those instincts told him that he was being watched. He started to turn toward the doorway leading from the kitchen to the dining area, when he spotted it. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed the dull vestige of a man, and the foreshadow of his movement.

_Out of time!_

Without thought or hesitation, Richard dove head first toward the prep table. In the process of doing this, he dropped the skillet that he had still been holding, it fell to the tile with a dull clang that reverberated throughout the room, drowning out the sounds of sizzling oil and torrential rain. Richard had sent his body flying over the prep table, in hopes of taking cover on the other side of the table, in the middle of his dive, he sent the coffee can full of kitchen utensils airborne. Spoons, spatulas, and whisks went flying everywhere.

In the succession of these actions, another series of events took place, a series of events that gave credence to Richard's slight case of paranoia. He heard the voice of a man softly cursing, the flat popping sound of a gunshot, and felt the change in air currents as a bullet whizzed by his head. Richard had avoided a mortal wound by no more than six inches. However he did not have time to contemplate these things. Richard had already jumped across the span on the prep table, and was coming down on the opposite side safely away from the unknown gunman if only for the moment.

The jump and diving maneuver had been the easy part, Richard had the feeling that it was the landing that was going to be a pain. He shifted his body to turn his dive into a roll, but he was sloppy in his execution, and landed with a skidding halt on his knees. Once again his knees screamed with pain, but he tried to ignore that, and subdue the wailing pain receptors in his brain, with mental willpower. Richard was fighting a losing battle with his body, the adrenaline in his system was wearing off, and if that were not enough, he was positive that he had injured his knee during his last acrobatic feat.

_I didn't give my body enough time to recuperate after the battle with Trigon._

A lifetime ago during his training as Robin, he had learned that sometimes the key to a battle was to think on your feet; to improvise, and improvising meant using the environment around you to your advantage. The advantage in this environment was obvious. The smoke could provide him with the cover he needed to outwit his opponent, because you cannot shoot what you cannot see. Richard knew that hiding would be a risky gamble. If he hid, it might provoke the aggressions of his attacker, and cause the gunman to harm one of the hostages.

_I've got to take the risk_

Richard got to his feet slowly, and ran the length of the prep table, turning his attention toward the deep fryer, as he drew closer to it he noticed his opening. There was a space of about a foot between the deep fryer, and the industrial stove. Richard presumed it was as such, to help deter the spread of a grease fire. He also noted that there was no ventilation hood above the deep fryer to channel smoke away from the kitchen.

The smoke in a two foot radius of the deep fryer had evolved into a thick and cloying haze capable of limiting visibility to less than a foot. Moving into the crevice, Richard crouched lower, slightly wedging himself between the stove and deep fryer, trying to ignore the molten oil that was raining upon him in random searing droplets. The air this close to the deep fryer was heavy with smoke and had taken on an acidic quality, the few shallow breaths he had allowed himself left his lungs burning, and his throat feeling sooty.

"What the hell did you do to Jim?" The thug asked.

The gunman was an idiot, this point was illustrated quite clearly to Richard. By speaking the gunman had given away his current position, he was standing quite near the unconscious body of his accomplice. Richard surmised that it might be possible that he had been seen crawling into the crevice, however he felt that the gunman lacked focus, and had not been able to track his movement. He hoped that his instinct was correct, otherwise he would make a very easy target, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel. The gunman moved forward slowly, a fact the Richard gleamed not by sight, but by sound. The sound of the thug's footsteps betrayed him. Richard heard the thug let loose with a bellowing cough, a sign that the smoke was also affecting him as well.

Richard was having his own problems with the smoke. He had tried to alternate his breathing pattern. Taking one breath through his nose, and the other through his mouth, was not enough to leave him immune to the hellish black vapor. The smoke had begun to take hold within his lungs, and had left his nasal passages irritated to the point that mucus had begun to clot, a natural defense his body had mounted to filter out the acidic smoke.

Richard decided that he would have to end this confrontation. If he was not able to take down this thug quickly, he risked having his senses further impaired by the smoke, the thought of which did not appeal to him, especially given the prospect of having to face a man with a gun.

Earlier the Behemoth Big Jim referred to his accomplice as Kid Ray. This man was probably the epitome of the stereotypical small-time criminal. He was probably given easily to greed, selling out those close to him to make a dime. Most likely he was also totally unintelligent, after all any intelligent criminal would know that robbing a diner was a bad idea, there was no money in it. He probably put up a tough front, while trying to hide his cowardice. However it did seem to Richard that this man, this Kid Ray had a bad temper, and a short fuse.

Richard decided that it would be to his advantage to exploit his temper. Anger generally made people sloppy, and if Richard could play on this emotion, the Kid might slip up, allowing Richard to subdue him with little effort. Psychological warfare was a tactic that Richard had learned to use quite adeptly. He knew both sides of it. Batman had taught Richard how to use his mind to torment his foes, to taunt them into submission. He had also learned how it felt to be tormented, Slade had taught him that lesson, a lesson which had scarred him for a time, more deeply than he was willing to admit.

He would take everything he had learned and use it to his advantage. He cupped his hands over his mouth, and yelled loudly, meaning for his voice to echo somewhat and distort his true position.

"The same thing I'm going to do to you," Richard gave a bitter laugh that was more menacing than he had originally intended, but which served his purpose beautifully. "You two are pathetic street hoods. What were you thinking coming here? This is a worthless score, just something that will add to your jail time."

"Kiss my ass. What do you know? I'm going to make you eat a bullet you little shit!" Kid Ray screamed.

Richard knew the thug was on edge, it was a fact that was given away by the threats he issued. Any dog barks louder when it is faced with a difficult opponent, that same dog becomes equally dangerous when backed into a corner, mostly out of desperation. The Kid may still have a fierce bite.

Richard heard the somber echo of lone footsteps, and felt his body tense in preparation for battle.


	14. Chapter 13: Swinging Savior

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG 13

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a Playstation 3."

**Foreword & Notes**  
Well, this is the climax to the Stackhouse Arc of the story, after this chapter, Richard will continue his trek to Gotham. But what is he hoping to find there? Can anyone guess? After this chapter, I will also begin exploring alternate pairings for some of the other Titans. As I side note, I was debating whether or not to feature Kid Flash in this story. What do you all think?

**The Future**  
Witness the changes in Beast Boy!

* * *

Chapter Thirteen  
Swinging Savior

_To fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence;  
supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting.  
-Sun Tzu_

_Let the Bodies Hit the Floor! - Drowning Pool_

What the hell was this shit anyways? Ray was royally confused here. He and Jimmy had stopped at this pitiful dive of a diner for a quick little score. It was a rush job, they were supposed to get in and get out, hopefully get enough cash to last them the next few days, then continue on to L.A. He had a buddy there that was supposed to hook them up with a job. A piece of cake enforcer gig for someone who ran drugs from Mexico to California and beyond.

Now Ray wasn't exactly sure what the hell they had gotten into. A simple stick-up was going bad. At first things were going smoothly. Thankfully nobody in the diner had a heroic streak, or felt like they had something to prove. When he and Jim had burst in, and told everyone to get to the ground, they got down so easily. Jim had chained the door for kicks, it was an idea they had picked up from a gangster flick a few years back. They did it to give the people inside the diner the idea that they were really screwed. It also lessened the chance that anyone would bolt for the door.

The plan had been to take the cash, and personal valuables. Watches, rings, cell phones and crap like that, then fence it on the street for the additional funds, or maybe some Marijuana to take the edge off. But things had started to go wrong the minute this old geezer had started getting pushy. Ray had to belt him in the nose with the butt of his Beretta. The old bastard had fallen back onto the table of his booth, right on top of a stack of pancakes, and as an added bonus he had sent glasses careening to the floor.

Ray had broken the man's nose, and he had found this quite funny, certainly a laugh riot to say the least. Things were starting to settle down when this pregnant woman cut herself on a shard of broken glass, which had come from the glasses that the old man had knocked off of his table. Then she had started bawling, and spent the entire time since then doing so.

Then there was the Hindu fry cook, who was being so damned polite. It was unnatural! They were robbing his little grease trap of a restaurant for Christ's sake, and he was still trying to be hospitable to them. He had told Kid Ray to take it easy and relax, and that really took the cake. Ray felt like kicking the crap out of him just for the hell of it, in hopes that it would wipe the sugary smile off of his face.

But Kid Ray's plan had been interrupted further by the smoke they had noticed coming from the kitchen. He had made a mistake sending Jim to check it out. They should've stayed together. Hell. They should've just bugged out right then and there, it was getting much to hairy for Ray, nevertheless he had decided to stay and finish the job. They needed this score after all.

And now? He was standing over the heaping unconscious body of Jim, in a kitchen filled with smoke. Some little punk had taken Jim out, and was taunting him now. Ray had squeezed off a shot at the little creep, but he doubted it actually hit him, the guy dove over a table and out of sight much too quickly for Ray to keep track of. To make matters worse, the hostages in the dining room were busy dealing with the old man that Ray had assaulted. He was having a seizure, or heart attack, or some damned thing. At least it would keep them busy, while Ray dealt with this latest problem.

Ray was getting angry, there was no point in denying that. The week had been a miserable one, it was just one problem after another, and now it seemed like things were only getting worse, after the exchange that had taken place with that little do-gooder punk, he felt like he was going to explode. He was always prone to anger and outbreaks of violence, and now was no different really. He felt his rage starting to build, and take the form of a knot in the pit of his stomach. The anger ate away at him, and he felt he needed to direct it toward something. He gave the heaping body of Big Jim a hefty kick, and felt his leg impact into spongy fat with a sense of manic satisfaction. It felt good to get out a little aggression.

Ray coughed sharply. It was the smoke, it was causing the back of his throat to burn, and was beginning to make his eyes water. It was becoming more of a pain to deal with, Ray decided it was time to stop messing around, and get all this crap taken care of once and for all. He would find this little punk, put a couple of bullets into his kneecaps, grab Big Jim and whatever loot they could haul out, and be done with it in the next ten minutes.

Directly in front of Ray was a large stove and griddle combination, and next to it was the source of the smoke. A deep fryer was left unattended by some idiot, and was burning away happily. Damn. It beat all didn't it? It was just his luck. They had left French Fries to burn. The stinking little golden fries were something he despised with an enormous passion, a hate that stemmed back to his days working at Burger Fool.

Glancing to the right, to the far side of the room, Ray noticed an open doorway, and beyond it a decrepit looking alley. Rain billowed in from the storm outside, cooling the tile floor, but not the fiery rage that had started building within him again. Someone had gotten away. Someone had called the cops, or was going to call the cops. Maybe it was that little punk? Maybe Ray hadn't noticed.

He raised the Beretta in his left hand, stepped past Jim, and started to walk toward the stove and griddle. He held the gun slightly out in front of him, ready to raise it and shoot at the first sign of movement. He edged past the corner of the prep table, turning to the right and facing the open doorway directly.

The smoke became thicker as he progressed closer to the deep fryer. It was dark and menacing, curling around his head like an ebony serpent, and striking his senses on many levels. It impaired his sense of vision, limited his speed of movement, and left him feeling a little disoriented. Kid Ray decided that if he was going to teach that punk a thing or two, his best bet would be to stop the sizzle and pop of the oil before doing so, eliminating the annoyance of the smoke.

Ray moved forward slowly, trying to proceed as cautiously as possible. He was nervous. Unsure of where the little punk had gone. How could he have had disappeared just like that? Ray was less than three feet away from the deep fryer now, the area immediately around it was hazy and thick with smoke. Ray coughed heavily and squinted his eyes against it. He moved forward quickly, meaning to pull the frying baskets from the oil, and try and shut the damn fryer off.

* * *

Richard was breathing with a shallow wheeze, waiting crouched in his hiding space between the stove and the deep fryer, still hoping that he had not been seen. Just seconds ago, he had heard the sound of footsteps that seemed to be drawing towards him. He was certain it had been Kid Ray, and that he had only been a few feet away. But then the footsteps had stopped, and Richard hadn't heard anything but the sizzle of hot oil.

_There it was!_

It was a faint sound, almost undetectable, but definitely unmistakable. It was the sound of a man coughing. Richard was sure he had heard it. The sound had come from his right, the direction Kid Ray would be coming if he wanted to take the most direct route to the deep fryer, or the exit. Richard couldn't really be sure, but his guess was that Kid Ray had probably assumed he fled through the open door, and was in pursuit of him now.

If the thug was really looking for him, it would be a foolish choice, one that Richard would not have made, if he were in the same situation. Perhaps the wrong choice for the thug, would work out to be the right choice for him. He would just have to wait for the right moment to take advantage of this new development.

Footsteps again. This time definitely moving toward him. Richard crouched lower, praying that the cloying blanket of smoke provided him with enough cover so that he would not be seen until the last possible second. The footsteps were five feet to his right, then three feet, then two feet, then just a foot away…

Richard could make out a pair of grungy feet in front of him, they were clad in flip-flops, and very dirty. He looked up and noticed that the man before him was holding a gun in his hand. The gun was right there, held in the hand that was closest to Richard, all he had to do was reach out and make a grab for it. But that would be sloppy, there had to be another way. Richard needed time to think, but the hourglass had finally run empty and he was out of time.

The Kid started to turn toward him and he took that as his cue. He tensed his muscles quickly, balling the energy up, and then sprang forward toward the thug. Richard's shoulder collided into Kid Ray's waist, his body impacting the thug with such momentum that the man was thrown off balance, and fell sideways into the prep table with a yelp of surprise.

Richard saw the gun fall from the hands of Kid Ray, and tried to grab for it, but only fumbled with it unsuccessfully for a moment, and caused it to go flying off to the left, skidding to a stop in a puddle of water that had collected by the exit door.

Richard fell to the floor with Kid Ray in a heap of tangled limbs. He could hear the other man cursing at him, and could feel him kicking, grabbing and scraping, while trying to get the upper hand. It certainly wasn't the most effective fighting technique, but it was chaotic enough.

Richard was on top and tried to push himself off of the man, and was able to do so only after kneeing him a few times in the chest. He turned his body toward the left, and scrambled toward the gun in a posture that could only be described as a weird sort of crawling walk. He wasn't able to get very far unfortunately, he felt a hand grab his ankle from behind.

"Bastard!" Kid Ray cursed.

Richard felt himself being yanked backwards by his ankle, this sudden movement caused him to lose what precious little balance he had left, and he fell flat to the tile floor. He was dazed, but immediately tried to turn onto his back, and get onto his feet again. He was able to turn onto his back, but was met with a rude awakening after doing so. He felt a punch connect squarely with his jaw, it let a dull throbbing agony loose inside of his head, and made his vision swim momentarily.

"Hah! And you thought you could get the best of 'ole Kid Ray, didn't you?"

The venomous words mocked him as his vision cleared. He could see the shadowy figure of Kid Ray looming over him, a haze of smoke curled around his balled fists. Richard tried to prop himself up on his elbows, in an attempt to defend himself somehow, when he noticed a figure creeping up on Kid Ray from behind. He could only make out the vaguest definition of a human form in the swirling smoke, but he did see something that was extremely promising, a bat raised up and ready to swing.

_The guy with the bat isn't close enough yet!_

Richard had mixed feelings about this whole thing. He had been caught off guard by some petty thug. It was sloppy of him. He could blame fatigue all he wanted, but if it had been someone more intelligent or more ruthless, he would've been dead by now. He didn't have the luxury of making careless mistakes. Nevertheless he knew that now wasn't the time to cry over spilt milk, he was still in a dangerous situation, and could still end up getting his ass handed to him.

While Richard was thankful that someone had his back, he didn't want to take this minor defeat laying down. He raised up both of his legs, pulled them back against his chest, and quickly thrust them up and forward. His feet connected with Kid Ray, hitting him squarely in the chest. The Kid was taken by surprise, a fact that was illustrated by the dumbfounded look on his face.

A gush of air escaped Kid Ray's battered lungs as his balance teetered, he careened backwards struggling to stay on his feet, and never noticed the person behind him with the bat. As Ray stumbled backwards, the person holding the bat swung, it came down fast and hard, hitting Kid Ray in the side of the neck. His eyes bulged out for a moment as if he was shocked, he let out a strained laugh and mumbled slightly, and then fell to the floor like a discarded sack of flour.

Richard felt like clapping but he ended up coughing instead. He started to get to his feet slowly, meaning to move away from the smoke. He felt dizzy for a moment, but the feeling passed as he took a few steps toward the doorway and the fresh air. He tried to thank his savior but was engulfed in a coughing fit. His head was swimming, the smoke had enveloped his senses impairing them more than he had realized. Quickly changing his mind, and his pace, he ran straight for the doorway, and the fresh air of the sodden night. Part of him worried that he may look cowardly running toward the exit, but he needed to breathe, regardless of how he looked.

Richard ran for the doorway fueled by a zealous need to breathe fresh air, his feet flew across the tile floor without hesitation, leaving it long enough to leap a small bound over the puddle in front of exit. The night greeted him with a chilling kiss, but he embraced it fully, by running out from under the covered awning and into the storm.

Doubled over and gasping, Richard could feel the smoke that had tainted his lungs leaving his system. Rain pelted his back, beginning to soak through the liner of his leather jacket, but he didn't care. He could breathe again, and that was what mattered to him. Finally regaining control of his senses, he could hear whispers and shouts coming from the diner behind him.

He turned to look back at the doorway, and was surprised to see the kitchen filled with light, the smoke had thinned somewhat, apparently someone had the chance to turn off the deep fryer. He saw Kid Ray's gun laying on the tile floor, in the puddle of water that he had jumped over to get outside. He felt foolish for leaving it there, and attending to his own needs, before being certain that the gun and the criminals would no longer be a threat.

Richard stood up straight, taking a moment to collect himself, then turned back toward the diner, meaning to retrieve the gun, and help the patrons inside wrap things up. He walked toward the kitchen doorway, and was met at the threshold by Sanjana, the waitress that he had encountered earlier. They stood facing each other silently for a moment, Richard regarded her with a smile that he hoped would appear friendly.

Richard glanced down at the tile floor, regarding the gun wordlessly, then averting his gaze back to Sanjana, he was surprised to see that she was holding a bat in her right hand. Looking her in the eyes once more, Richard was finally greeted with her smile.

"That's some swing you've got Sanjana. Have you ever considered using it to play baseball?"

For a moment the beautiful young waitress said nothing, she only stared at him quizzically. She sighed, breaking whatever trance she had held Richard in, then took a moment to bend over, and picked up the gun that was laying in rainwater at her feet. She held it by pinching the magazine between her thumb and pointer finger, holding it in front of her, as if it were something that was very vile to the touch. It was a comical sight to Richard, in one hand she held the gun which had been used to do harm, and in the other she held the baseball bat which she had used to save him. She looked like some sort of urban warrior ready to go to war.

"Perhaps you should give that to me," Richard suggested.

"No, it's okay, we'll save it for the police," Sanjana told him.

"What about Beavis and Butthead in there?" Richard asked.

She giggled slightly, which Richard found to be an amazement considering what they had both been through in the last hour.

"My brother is dealing with them, with the help of some of the diner's customers," she said matter-of-factly "I just thank God that he is still alive."

"I'm glad everything turned out well."

"Why don't you come in from out of the rain?" Sanjana asked, "I already called the cops anyways. They're on the way."

Great. Law enforcement. That was just what he didn't need.

"I'm not in the rain. I'm nice and dry right here on the porch," Richard told her.

"It was a metaphor."

"Oh."

Richard paused for a moment, listening intently to the sounds of the night. He was sure that he heard the siren's song growing in the distance. The cops were definitely on the way, and Richard wanted to avoid all the questioning they would undoubtedly do. Questions weren't good.

"I've got to go Sanjana, before the police get here," Richard told her, "I'm really not in the mood to explain myself or my actions to them."

"But you saved everyone! You should stay to take the credit."

"And you saved me with that timely home run. But it wouldn't be a good idea for the cops to find me here," Richard said.

He backed away from her slowly, and then preformed a mock bow.

"Aren't you going to even tell me your name?" She asked.

"It's a secret. This whole thing is. If you are really thankful for my help, don't tell anyone I was ever here," Richard spoke with a gruff tone, hoping it would get his point across.

Without saying another word he turned away from her and dashed into the night. As he ran toward the dumpster, hoping to transverse the parking lot and make it back to his room before the police arrived, he mused on how strange their conversation had been, and how lucky he had been to meet her, if only briefly.


	15. Chapter 14: Chasing a Star

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own the Mystery Machine."

**Foreword & Notes  
**For all of you Loyal Readers out there, who might be getting a case of the Holiday Blues, here is the next and newest installment of Paradox. And though this we be the last chapter of 2006, please don't throw shouts of "Bah Humbug" my way, because these characters still have a story to tell, and are still compelling me to write it. And though the newer chapters have been a bit more slow going, I've not succumb to Writer's Block yet!

So curl up with some egg nog, and Gingerbread Men that aren't mutated, and READ ON!

What do I want for Christmas? Reviews!

Also, voting for couples has closed, with an overwhelming ten votes. Whew!

Lastly, I'm issuing a challenge for you Titan's Lovers out there: Write a Christmas One-Shot full of fluff with your favorite two characters, PM me a link, and I'll mention my favorite in a future posting of Paradox! Also, please put Paradox Challenge in the Story Summary!

**The Future**  
A stolen kiss...

* * *

Chapter Fourteen  
Chasing a Star

_"Love builds bridges where there are none."  
-R.H. Delaney_

_Lord Give Me A Sign - DMX_

This morning marked the beginning of the second day since Robin had left Titan's Tower. He had fled in the dead of the night, and there was something about that which Garfield still found unsettling. It led him to think that there was more to the situation than any of them were aware of. Though he was somewhat suspicious of Robin's actions and intentions, he couldn't help but admit that he was concerned about his fearless leader.

When they had first discovered Robin missing, they had searched for him, and upon discovering that he had left of his own accord and had asked not to be followed, they had let him go. Had that been a mistake? He couldn't help but wonder. The only thing that he was certain of, was that his absence had affected all of them in some manner, whether large or small.

Cyborg had spent an unhealthy amount of time hidden away in his workshop, working on one project or another, refusing Garfield's attempts at companionship, and offers of friendly video game competition.

Raven had become her old discordant self again, much to Garfield's disappointment. After they defeated Trigon, he had noticed the small changes in her, much to her chagrin. The tiny smiles, and brightness in her eyes, her overall demeanor seemed to be more relaxed and at peace. But in the space of these short days, she had reverted back to her old habits. She became agitated more easily, seemingly bored with life and her surroundings, and severely anti-social.

But then, that was the Raven he had known for several years. It was fair to say that the changes he noticed in her recently, were only temporary, and she was finally settling back into her old routine. However, Garfield had secretly held on to the hope that they would be seeing a new side of Raven, that her more upbeat attitude would take root and flourish.

He hadn't been immune to the effects either, as hard as that was to admit to himself, he knew that it held a ring of truth. He had been more subdued that usual. Less willing to make jokes, mostly for fear that they would cause an argument. Or worse, that nobody would laugh at them. Not that he would hold it against them if they didn't laugh, he knew he had an AWESOME sense of humor, but on the other hand he also knew that it was hard to laugh if you were depressed.

Speaking of depression, and the adverse effect it had on people, Starfire had been the one to succumb to it most completely. She had spent the past two days in her room alone, distant and withdrawn from her friends, hardly eating and barely communicative. He proposed that they take a walk in the arboretum that she so adored. Garfield had also tried to cheer her up by offering that they sing traditional folk songs from her home planet Tamaran, but even that had done little to crack the cold shell of loneliness that enveloped her.

Garfield sighed, it was too early in the morning to be dwelling on such depressing thoughts. The sun had not fully risen into the sky yet, and he was already bummed out. He had gotten up early, unable to sleep, even though he had taken the form of a cat, and buried himself under the covers. Feeling anxious, and somewhat lonely, he had decided to get out of the Tower, and enjoy the warm July weather.

As the sun ascended in the sky, he ascended the stairway leading to the roof of the Tower, anxious to make his way to the roof. If he were in a better mood, he might've gone for a early swim in the pool. But in his current mind-set, all he wanted to do was fly. In his opinion the best way to sleep was as a cat, and the best way to forget your troubles, was to soar in the sky with the eagles.

Finally reaching the roof, he grunted in satisfaction at the smell of the sea air, and stepped boldly out into the sunlight, letting the stairway door close behind him. He walked further out onto the roof, turning to face Jump city. The city's skyline was backlight by the sun, which had not yet reached its noontime peak. Though the great fiery celestial body had not yet reached its zenith, as he beheld it, Garfield understood why ancient cultures had been awestruck by the object, and afforded it a place of honor in their respective religions.

Though the sun did not hold any religious appeal for him, it did hold a special value to him on this bright morning. He had come to the roof planning to take flight, and the sun would aide him in that task. The sunlight heated the earth, and created thermals by doing so. A thermal is a rising column of air, that is created by the uneven heating of the Earth's surface. This column of air acts like a natural elevator for birds, and allows them to gain altitude more quickly, and soar more easily.

In other words, sunlight made for bitchin' flying weather. Contemplating this, he turned away from the Jump City skyline, and walked to the opposite end of the Tower's roof, he now stood facing the sea. With his back to the sun, he smiled and focused his energies on the ensuing change that he wished to undertake.

The first thing he noticed, as he focused his mind to make the change, was the sensation of falling, as he shrank and lost body mass. The feeling was overwhelming, and something he could never get used to during his shape shifting. He felt his lips hardening, and elongating. His nose began to melt, hardening and merging with his elongated lips to form a beak. Garfield's emerald skin began to itch, and an Etch-A-Sketch pattern formed on his flesh as the lines of feathers were drawn. It gave his skin an eerie looking design, that design suddenly burst forth into reality, as green feathers became three dimensional.

While his epidermis was giving birth to the feathers, other changes simultaneously took place. Garfield's eyes split further apart, his legs shriveled and hardened, becoming mere sticks. His feet became talons, his toenails became claws. His arm bones hollowed out, the joints in his elbows shifting to give him greater range of motion, his fingers extended out becoming bare hollow wing bones, wings which were also quickly covered in feathers.

Not wanting to wait any longer, he hopped off of the roof of the tower, and let the sky take him. He fell for a few seconds, as his change was not fully complete, but then began to flap his wings furiously to gain altitude. He had become a bird accustomed to the ocean, he had become an osprey.

Garfield favored the osprey for several reasons. Because it had keener vision than most raptors its size, with eyesight sharp enough to track fish swimming several feet under the water, and nostrils that closed naturally, helping to keep water out when diving for those fish. No to mention talons that were especially designed by nature to help catch those fish. Talons that were sometimes so effective, that they had trouble letting go of their catch.

It wasn't that he planned to go fishing, he just preferred to be a bird that was more adept around water, because he planned to go gliding over the ocean, and the osprey handled flying over bodies of water more skillfully than most other birds of prey. However, his glide over the ocean would have to wait. He would first have to gain the altitude required to soar at the heights he wished. The best way to do so was by circling over the land that Titan's Tower stood on, letting the thermals created by the island's warm bedrock lift him higher into the sky.

As he gained altitude, ascending higher into the sky, his mind drifted over the events that had taken place over the past few days, and he was once again left to wonder what had caused Robin to leave them without even saying goodbye. Several theories played out in his head. He had even considered some sort of scenario involving Slade, but deemed it unlikely that Robin would face the man alone again. So why had Robin split? Why did he go renegade?

Garfield tried to shake loose the thoughts that were plaguing him, deciding to head out over the ocean, and glide over the water for awhile. The salt air filled his senses, and he detected a more natural and vital quality to it that the normal human sense of smell would never discover. As he flew, he watched the fish playing beneath the waves, swimming here and there, flying through the water in their own right.

Watching those fish, Garfield had to resist the natural instincts of the bird, to keep himself from diving into the water, to catch one, and partake in a little breakfast. He knew that nature made raptors to be carnivores, that they were designed to eat meat. He was just thankful that he had a choice in the matter, about eating what he wanted to eat. He hadn't realized the he had become so hungry, seeing the fish had made him realize that he was in dire need of breakfast, especially a breakfast of the vegetarian variety.

He changed his course, heading back toward the tower, trying to decide what he wanted for breakfast along the way. He hadn't noticed that the sun had crept so high into the morning sky, time had obviously gotten away from him during his flight, perhaps more than he intended. The idea only startled him slightly, mostly because it wasn't the first time that he had lost himself in the form of another animal, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

Though the sun was hanging higher over the horizon than when he had left Titan's Tower, it was still low enough that its rays shone brightly into the open expanse of sky ahead of Garfield. And though he knew he was flying toward the Tower, it was only his instinct that gave him this knowledge, and not his sense of sight. Even with the keen eyes of the osprey, the glare from the sun was intense, it was a bit of an irony that the super vision of the osprey would work against him in this instance. Garfield supposed that if he had been in the form of a human and in a boat on the ocean, instead of flying over it as an osprey, the light from the sun wouldn't seem so bright.

Regardless of this development, he was still enjoying his flight, and didn't mind letting his instincts guide him back toward the Tower. During his flight, he focused as much as he could on the cerulean ocean below him, teeming with life and activity, and this time he was tempted to swim with the fish below, instead of eating them.

Maybe after he got some food.

He was getting closer to the Tower, and now that he was little more than a mile away, he could see it quite well. And though it was silhouetted against the sun, he had a decent view of the roof of the tower, and it was then that he noticed that someone was standing there alone. At first, the person standing there lacked definition, and he had no way of knowing exactly who it was.

But as he flew closer to the Tower, the person came into focus, details that were mostly vague before, came into crisp definition. The realization of who it was dawned on him when he saw her scarlet hair fluttering softly, caught in the grasp of a southern wind. She was not dressed in her uniform, only in simple street clothing, though she was true to form as her favorite shade of violet dominated the color scheme of her outfit.

She was standing there alone, with her back to him, facing the sun. Though he wasn't being covert, flying back to the Tower normally, he felt as if he was spying on her, and a strange feeling of guilt overcame him, a deviant thought from some dark corner of his mind. Why should he feel guilty? He wasn't trying to spy on her. He was only trying to return home for a meal.

But as she stood there, seemingly in silence, and he continued his flight toward her, he couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Why was she standing alone? Why wasn't she moving? Doing something? Why did she remain so still?

Even though Garfield was concerned about Robin and his whereabouts, a bigger part of him was concerned about Starfire. She had not reacted well to his departure, it was as if a part of her had broken when Robin left. Garfield wanted to help her friend, fix the situation, cure her of whatever problems were plaguing her. But as of yet, he had been unable to reach her, even after all of his attempts, her mood remained sullen and severely withdrawn.

He watched her lift her face to the sky, seemingly trying to find solace in the heavens. Garfield followed her gaze as best as he could, but was unable to detect whatever had caught her attention, and held her rapt. He saw nothing more than the ordinary. No hidden celestial patterns revealed themselves to him, the only thing that caught his eye, was the thin wisps of altocumulus clouds advancing over the horizon.

Garfield was now little more than two hundred yards from the Tower, and he was fully prepared to land, shift into his human form, and speak to Starfire, perhaps offer to share a meal with her, but she had other plans. She rose slowly at first, floating with an elegant buoyancy that rivaled even the finest feather, then rising more quickly, like an errant bullet fired into the sky.

He trailed her ascent with the microscopic precision granted to him by his godlike osprey eyesight. She stopped suddenly, almost one hundred yards directly above the rooftop of the Tower, still facing Jump City. She hovered there, almost motionless, like a marionette suspended by invisible threads. Her arms hung listlessly at her sides, her left leg bent at the knee, and held slightly higher than her right, indicating her dominant appendages.

Garfield was surprised to see her flying. He remembered a time when they had spoken about her powers, and she had confided in him that her emotions affected her powers to an extreme extent, something she had in common with Raven. However, unlike Raven, whose powers were fueled by her emotions whether negative or positive, Starfire was sometimes left powerless when overwhelmed with emotions that troubled her to a deep extent.

He had been thankful that the past few days had been relatively peaceful in the city, with little or no chaos that required their intervention, because he had been worried that Starfire would not be able to utilize her powers. But seeing her suspended in the sky, altocumulus clouds dancing around her in ethereal ballet, Garfield realized that her powers were indeed intact. But were her emotions? That was the question that plagued him.

Starfire took off, flying toward the city at a hurried pace, obviously intent at arriving at some predetermined destination. He was worried about her, wanted to be there to comfort her, and help her sort out her troubles. He had not been around when Robin had left, but he was present to witness Starfire's departure, and he would not let the alien princess runaway so easily. Changing course, and flapping harder to keep up with the girl, he followed her as she made her way toward the city.

His late breakfast would have to wait.


	16. Chapter 15: The Visitor

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own an OQO mini computer."

**Foreword & Notes  
**Greetings Everyone! First I'd like to apologize for the late update. The Holidays were hectic, and to top it off, I started the New Year witih a really bad bug. Perhaps I ate one of Starfire's contaminated Christmas cookies by mistake.

Anyhow, if any of you have story submissions, be sure to contact me by e-mail, because I'd love to read them!

Finally, here is the latest chapter of Paradox, it focuses very heavily on Richard, and his thoughts. I hope everyone will enjoy it, and I look forward to reading your reviews. Don't worry, Richard hasn't lost sight of his goal. This chapter puts him one step closer to Gotham, and closer in his overall goal to revive Terra.

**The Future**  
A beautiful garden..

* * *

Chapter Fifteen  
The Visitor

_"If you are going through hell, keep going."  
-Sir Winston Churchill_

_Original Sin - Elton John_

While Garfield was chasing a star across the skies of Jump City, Richard Grayson slept the morning away in his room at the Royal Arms Motel. He had checked into the motel yesterday, as the afternoon was giving way to the evening, hoping to sleep away his road weariness. A full day on the road, after leaving Titan's Tower at dawn, had left him needing time to relax.

When he had embarked on his errand, he had not expected it to be a road of trials, but it seemed that fate had other plans in store for him. Confronting the petty thugs in the truck stop diner attached to the motel had not been planned, he had not expected to be drawn into a battle to save lives, but he had forged ahead anyways, saving the wayward souls in The Stackhouse from urban evil.

Richard was waking, becoming aware of his surroundings earlier than he had wished, much to his dissatisfaction. His breathing was still slow and rhythmic, and he tried to maintain it at that level, hoping that the veil of sleep would fall over him again.

But as hard as he tried, he could not find refuge in sleep, thoughts played through his head with a will of their own, and he was at their mercy. He thought of his friends back home, and felt a pang of guilt for leaving them without letting them know his intentions. He thought of his parents, long dead victims of senseless violence. Of Raven, a jewel hidden in the normalcy of his everyday life, with a depth of beauty that he had only recently started to discover. Of Sanjana, the waitress turned rescuer who had saved him at an untimely moment.

Richard groaned at the unfairness of it, he had spent the night saving innocents, couldn't he at least be afforded a few extra hours of sleep? Was the sandman such a malevolent being, that he could not ration Richard a few more winks? Though he longed for the gentle nothingness of sleep, he surrendered to the inevitability of waking, and began to flex different muscles to warm them up.

Hesitation was in abundance for him today, and he opened his eyes as slowly as he was able, allowing his bloodshot eyes time to adjust to the morning sunlight. Glancing toward the window at which he had stood sentinel only hours before, he noticed that the curtains were still firmly drawn, as he had left them after returning from his nocturnal adventure.

But somehow sunlight had found its way into his room. It played at the edges of the ebony curtain, where the heavy material had become thin with age, and its glow filtered into his room in a sepia hue. Though the light was only moderate, he suspected that was what had awakened him, and he cursed himself for being such a light sleeper.

Throwing back the comforter that he had become entangled in during the night, he sat up slowly, wincing at the small aches that pained him. His body still felt the punishment it had taken last night, and Richard once again found himself wondering how older men and women in his line of work dealt with the constant physical abuse. He had never remembered seeing his mentor Bruce complain of aches and pains, and that man was over a decade his senior.

Richard was nearly naked, wearing only his boxers, after returning from his jaunt last night, he had thrown his clothes back on the floor, where they were still taking residence even now. He was still unsure of how to start his morning. Would he shower, and then don his dirty duds? Or would he dress, take leave of the motel, and find fresh clothes and a shower elsewhere?

While Richard pondered this curious question, he raised his arms over his head, and stretched as best he could, letting them drop after a few seconds. He then rotated his shoulders, hoping to loosen his stiff neck, let out an involuntary grunt as a small bolt of pain flashed in his back, and then yawned despite the fact that it was not proper manners.

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

Someone was knocking at Richard's door. At first he was stunned by this development, who would have a reason to come knocking? He had left the Do Not Disturb Until Checkout sign on his door, so he was fairly certain that it wasn't the maid.

There was always the possibility that it could be a bluecoat. But he doubted that any detective or lowly gumshoe who was trying to make a name for himself would come calling now. To justify his conviction, he glanced over to the clock that still sat atop the television. It was well past lunchtime, and logic dictated that if the officers working the case were going to canvas the motel for witnesses, they would do so early, as quickly as possible after the crime had taken place. To ensure that any facts that could be gleamed from witnesses would be fresh. By now, the memories of any witnesses would be dulled by a fog of forgetfulness.

Besides that, Richard had not slept until the amateur stickup artists were in police custody. He had watched quietly from the window of his motel room, as the entire scene had unfolded in front of The Stackhouse. It had been a circus filled with cops, reporters, and spectators. He had watched as some hostages tried to flee the media, while others had taken the time to be interviewed. He watched as Kid Ray and his humongous cohort were lead to a squad car, and driven away. He had watched as forensics technicians had gathered what little evidence they could find, to help solidify the already airtight case against the thugs. And when things were all said and done, and the fuzz had finally disappeared leaving only their yellow caution tape behind, he had watched as a portly fellow from Big Al's Towing and Autobody had towed the decrepit Tempo away.

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

The knocking continued, and Richard mused at how persistent his visitor was. It had been two minutes already, surely the average person would've given up, and gone away by now. So who was doing the knocking? He felt a perverse sense of guilt at not answering the door. A feeling of guilt that he was sure was somewhat akin to the same feeling of guilt that the narrator of the famous poem by Egar Allen Poe felt.

Though Richard did not fear that a lost love was knocking from the afterworld, he was somewhat apprehensive at the prospect of being confronted by a reporter, or police officer. Such situations had always been difficult for him, because he disdained lying to his fellow man.

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

This latest series of knocks was followed by a voice Richard had not expected.

"I know you're in there, so you'd better open up, because I'm not going to stop knocking until you do!"

_Crap._

This was completely unexpected. Of all things he was prepared to encounter, Richard had no defense against this. He hadn't expected her to make a connection to him, as a result of their brief interaction the night before. Perhaps he had been foolish in assuming that she would not recognize him, simple because he had been wearing his mask. He had stared at her several times before, in the diner just yesterday, and it was a good bet that she recognized him at some point last night.

_Maybe it was the hair?_

Nah. There was a possibility, but he recognized that the chances were slim.

Richard resolved to answer the door, he didn't really have too much of a choice in the matter, the person who had come calling was intent on speaking with him. He had not expected to see her again, especially after the nocturnal trials and tribulations they had faced the night before. But here she was, knocking at his door.

In truth, he had felt badly for not thanking her more properly for her timely assistance, she had not only saved him from a bad situation, but she had also helped to save the lives of the frightened diner patrons as well. It was a feat of bravery that Richard was impressed with, though he had only been impressed with her actions in retrospect.

Last night, after she had made her home run, Richard's emotions had been like a broken mosaic, jumbled and confusing. He had felt thankful for her assistance, because the situation had been quite dire. He had also felt a sense of relief, that the crisis was over. But there had been darker emotions underlying those lighter feelings, emotions that had been so deep below the surface of his subconscious that he hadn't realized that he had felt them until now.

He had felt an unbridled rage, something that encompassed the darkest parts of him, a sense of rage that was awakened by the hapless thugs, and fueled by the cries of suffering innocents. Richard had also felt pity for those innocents, compassion for them in their time of need.

It was that compassion, along with his sense of right and wrong that had compelled him to act last night. Just as it was his rage that gave him the courage to put his life on the line to save the lives of those in need. He had realized these things in retrospect, and accepted the usefulness of these emotions.

But he had felt other emotions last night that had not been useful, or even slightly helpful in any sense. He had felt ashamed for nearly failing the people he had tried to protect, if it had not been for Sanjana, he surely would've be wounded or incapacitated by Kid Ray, and that left him feeling inadequate. Feeling those things had been somewhat justifiable.

But later, when he was outside, engulfed by the rain, and facing her as she stood in the doorway, he had resented her to some extent. Resented her for coming to his aid, for thinking that he might need her assistance, that he couldn't handle it. That resentment came from his chauvinistic male ego, and he hated admitting it, but it also explained why he had been so curt with her, and not properly thanked her for her help.

Richard Grayson stood up, and grunted indifferently. He bent down, and began to pick up his discarded clothing, which still lay strewn about. He dressed silently, listening to the rhythmic racket of Sanjana's knocking. He pulled on his jeans, one leg at a time, zipping them up, and buttoning his fly. He pulled on the same shirt that he had worn yesterday, and grimaced at the smell of stale sweat that it held.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming, hold your horses!" Richard shouted.

Though the knocking stopped, he was still hesitant to answer the door. He walked toward it slowly, hoping that the fact that he was still alive today was a good omen. He didn't need a mirror to know that his hair was a mess, it was probably sticking up in fifty different directions, but he honestly didn't give a damn.

The doorknob looked menacing and ominous in its simplicity, and he had to remind himself that he routinely faced evils more dastardly and nefarious than polished brass. But it took a great deal for him to keep his nerve, and reach for the doorknob. It was a ludicrous sensation of fear that gripped him, and as much as he tried, he could not fully brush off the feeling, as it embraced him.

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

Whatever the case may be, she seemed intent on speaking with him, so he opened the door, prepared to greet her as best as he could. She had her left arm raised, poised and prepared to knock again, if he had continued to ignore her.

The day was bright and filled with sunshine. It filled Richard's perception with its radiance, and overwhelmed him to the point that he had to squint to cut the glare. As his eyes adjusted to the ambiance, Richard was finally able to get a better look at Sanjana, who was standing with her arms crossed in front of him, with a scowl on her face.

_Sanjana._

The scowl she was wearing turned in to a Cheshire grin upon seeing him answer the door. She wore her hair down, it cascaded past her shoulders, and looked like a finely spun silk. Her lips looked soft and succulent, ripe for the taking. She wore a banana yellow baby doll t-shirt that featured several lilies that were painted on in a style reminiscent of a watercolor painting. She wore Capri's that were a snowy white and fit her snuggly. Her outfit was completed with white Nikes, and powder blue athletic socks.

Richard didn't usually pay so much attention to the fashion sense of every women he met on the road, but there certainly was something different about this girl. At first Richard had reasoned that the only thing that attracted him to her was the bindi that she wore, simply because it had reminded him of the chakra point that Raven sported.

But was that the only reason? He hated to think it was something as miniscule as that, but it was the only rational thing his mind could hold on to. Thinking of it now, Richard's eyes were drawn to Sanjana's forehead, and he felt a weird sense of relief when he noticed that she was not wearing a bindi today.

Still standing with her arms crossed on the porch, she apparently decided she had waited long enough to be politely invited in, and pushed past Richard to gain entry into his room. Richard was startled by this, and was put slightly off balance by her gentle shove. He stumbled a few steps backwards, his arms wind-milling slightly, but managed to keep from falling onto his butt.

She walked over to the small dining table that was adjacent to the bed, and across from the television, positioned right next to the window that Richard stood sentry at hours before, and sat on a wooden wing-backed chair with tan upholstery. Crossing her arms once more, she scowled at Richard again, as he looked at her, somewhat speechlessly.

"Gee, yeah, no problem, you can come in," Richard said closing the door. "I make a habit of inviting complete strangers into my motel rooms."

Sanjana raised an eyebrow at him, and only stared, saying nothing. Richard himself was still at a loss for words. Not only had he not expected her to show up on his doorstep the way she did, he was equally surprised that she forced her way into his room so brazenly.

"We aren't strangers Mr. Grayson," she said matter-of-factly. "I think we got to know each other very well last night."


	17. Chapter 16: Stolen Kiss

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own stock in Lego."

**Foreword & Notes  
**Sorry this chapter came so late, it was a pain to write. Because of that, I hope you find it enjoyable. In other news, I will be heading to the Philippines soon for vacation. I'm German, not Filipino, but I do enjoy the islands there. As such, while I'm gone, I probably won't be able to update. I'll be gone for about a month, I leave in sixteen days, the irony being that this is also chapter 16.

For those of you who may be interested, I'll tell you a little about the trip when I return.

In other news, I could use another Beta, if anyone has interest.

**The Future** ... Is out there!

* * *

Chapter Sixteen  
Stolen Kiss

_Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real. - Tupac Shakur_

_Wall in Your Heart - Shelby Lynne_

Richard was only able to hold his poker face with great concentration. She had come prepared to make him admit to his actions, and she had expertly caught him off guard. He felt conflicted, he did not wish to reveal his identity, or the part he played as a vigilante last night. But on the other hand, he did not want to insult her intelligence by blatantly lying to her.

_I could play dumb._

But to what end? Obviously she was fairly certain that he was the same person that foiled last night's caper, to such an extent that she would risk potential embarrassment by coming here to get the truth. That being the case, was Richard really willing to lie so bluntly to her? He had to protect his identity, but at what cost? His self-respect?

The fact of the matter was that she had shown great courage by coming back to assist him, and quite possibly had saved his life last night. So would he repay her selfless act by lying? Certainly not. If she had really deduced his identity, he would not try to misdirect her with lies. But at the same time he would not easily divulge his secrets.

"You're the waitress from The Stackhouse, but why are you here?"

"To get some answers," Sanjana told him.

"About what? How I liked my stay here? The food?" Richard asked, "You could've just given me a comment card, and saved yourself the trouble."

Richard mentally scolded himself for the snide remark, but wanted to continue to seem aloof and uncaring. He walked over and stood in front of the chair that she was sitting in, and crossed his arms, while letting a smug smile cross his face.

"I was more interested in what made you play hero last night," she admitted.

Upon hearing this, Richard's smug smile faltered, and his lower lip trembled slightly. Apparently Sanjana took this as a sign that she was on to something, and continued to dig at the truth.

* * *

What the hell was she doing here? That was the question that she had been asking herself ever since she had started knocking. But it was a foolish question. Ever since the horrific events of last night, she had been plagued by a need to find the truth, to know if the person that had come to her rescue, and the rescue of her brother and the diner patrons, was the same boy that had stared at her so intently during his breakfast just yesterday. 

The truth was that last night, when he had left her standing in the kitchen doorway, she had watched him as he had run out into the storm, and had felt an immense and undeniable need to find out who he really was. She had been frightened by him initially; when she had met him while crawling to her freedom. But after she had spoken to him, and he had told her that he was willing to help, she had felt nothing but an extreme curiosity about him.

But if it wasn't for his eyes, Sanjana would have had no real way of tracking him down. Despite the fear she was feeling at the time, she had looked deeply into his eyes while explaining to him that her brother was being held hostage inside with the others, and was taken aback by them. They were a deeply vivid shade of blue, almost the color of uncut sapphires, and it was the eyes that she recognized.

But wasn't that such a small thing to base her assumptions off of? His eyes? How many people in this world had blue eyes? Certainly too many for Sanjana to ever hope to count. So was this course of action really intelligent? Was she really willing to wager so much on the fact that the boy in the restaurant, and her timely vigilante, were really one in the same? It was such a gamble, especially with only the eyes to go on, but apparently she was willing to take the risk, otherwise she wouldn't have even come here.

But how was she to approach the subject? Pointing an accusatory finger at him, and shouting her belief that he was the same guy from the diner, was not going to get him to admit it. If she approached the topic with hostility, he would react to her questions with a similar hostility, that might ruin her chances of ever finding the truth, it was a mess.

* * *

Richard was waiting for the tirade to begin, for Sanjana to begin shouting her proclamations that he was the masked man from last night, that he had come to the aid of everyone in the diner. That during his breakfast yesterday, he had stared at her with hungry eyes, the eyes of a man that is lusting for more than a bite to eat.

Any minute now, and the accusations will burst out of her. Shacuse!

"I mean seriously, what makes a guy stroll into a breakfast joint for a bite, then come back later to defend the place against a robbery?" She asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"A guilty conscience?" Richard asked her. "Maybe the guy felt bad because he didn't tip well, I heard something like that happened once in New York."

"Why were you staring at me so much yesterday?" Sanjana asked changing her tact.

"When yesterday?" Richard asked.

"When you ordered, and while you were having your meal." She replied.

"'Cause you reminded me of that girl from _Bend It Like Beckham,_" he said.

"Huh? Who?"

"Never mind, it isn't important," Richard told her, waving a hand dismissively.

"You're right, what's important is what you did last night, and why you did it," Sanjana insisted.

_Damn. _

She was hounding him relentlessly about this. It was quickly becoming obvious to him that she wasn't going to let the matter go of her own accord, nor was she so easily manipulated into changing the subject. Richard felt as if he were being slowly backed into a corner.

He could turn the tide of the conversation easily, by changing his demeanor, becoming hostile, and demanding that she leave. But Richard wasn't an actor, and he had very little experience faking emotions. Besides, there was a part of him, hidden in some unused corner of his psyche, that screamed out, demanding that he be somewhat honest with her. He did not have to tell her that he was Robin, nor did he have to tell her that he did the hero stuff on a regular basis, he could just tell her he was there, that helping them had been a spur of the moment decision, couldn't he?

But… The problem was that this train of thought was a complete three-hundred-and-sixty degree turnaround for him. Just a few moments ago, he had been adamant about not revealing his identity, or the part he had played in last night's escapade. And though he was still not willing to reveal that he was Robin, or did that sort of thing on a normal basis, he was actually considering admitting that he had come to the rescue last night.

Telling her did come with risks attached, but it seemed like the more Richard thought about it, the more those risks became relatively minor. The grandiose sense of risk he had attached to the thought of telling her seemed to stem from an innate sense of paranoia he had developed over the years.

Because, let's face it, even if he did tell her that he had played the part of a vigilante last night, how could giving her that information possibly evolve in her mind, to become a theory that he was somehow Robin, leader of the Teen Titans of Jump City, and former protégé and sidekick of the Batman? The odds of that happening were astronomical and unintelligible.

_Paranoia… Paranoia… Everybody's coming to get me… _

"Well?" Sanjana asked with an eyebrow raised.

_Alright then, moment of truth. Deep breath. Here goes. _

"Alright… I was there…" Richard was aware he was mumbling when he spoke, and she damn well better have heard him too, because he was certainly not repeating himself.

* * *

"Why?" 

"Why what?" He asked.

"Why did you do it? Why not just call the police?" Sanjana asked him candidly.

He had finally admitted to her that he had been there. It was an affirmation of what she had believed to be true, she should be satisfied by it, satisfied by the fact that she had been right, and not acting like a crazed lunatic by coming here to confront him. While her reasons for coming here were not quite clear - even to herself - there was still something bugging her.

Another question was echoing in her mind, waiting to be answered, and though she had already asked him previously, she was still plagued with the need for an answer. Because the reason why he had done it was important. He had come bursting into the diner, presumably wanting to help, but that did not necessarily mean that had been his main reason for doing so.

Maybe he was an adrenaline junkie who took the law into his own hands to get some sick sort of rush. Maybe he got a grim sense of satisfaction from facing death everyday. If that was the case, then she should chastise him, and report his actions to the police.

But there was some secret part of her that knew that had not been the real reason he had done it. She did not have any substantial proof to support this theory, other than the look in his eyes last night. That was why she had come here, because he had looked at her with something akin to a fierce need, before he had run off into the storm last night. And even though it was possible that one of the reasons for his actions was out of some misguided need for an adrenaline rush, she doubted it.

But still, she needed to hear his answer, and to understand his reasoning to be sure. So she sat in his chair, arms still crossed, sporting a light scowl on her face to mask her thoughts. Waiting to hear his answer.

"I was asleep," Richard stated. "I heard gunshots coming from the area of the diner, and a woman screaming. When I looked outside my window, and saw that car just sitting there, I knew there must be trouble."

"So? You dial 911, hide under the covers like a good boy, and wait for the police to handle it." Sanjana told him.

"And then what? Someone could've been hurt, or even killed," Richard replied sharply.

Sanjana wanted to believe his intentions had been noble, but she still wasn't convinced, and apparently the look on her face gave away her true feelings. This caused the boy standing in front of her to regard her with a cold stare, his blue eyes penetrated her calm demeanor and gave her a chill.

"Look lady, I did what I did for personal reasons," Richard said. "And to be honest, I don't give a damn if you think I did the right thing, or if you think that I shouldn't have done it in the first place. The truth is, I became aware of the situation, and people that needed my help. It was in my power to help them, so I did."

Sanjana had not expected him to respond so vehemently to her questions, because of his reaction, she was beginning to question her own motives for being here.

* * *

He had not intended to let his emotions go in such an outburst. But she was really getting under his skin, and he couldn't help letting her know the truth. As much as he hated the idea of talking about his past, it seemed like the most prudent way to give her the answers she was looking for, so he could continue on with his journey. 

"When I was a little boy, my parents were murdered by a deranged psychopath, and I wasn't able to do anything to help them," as Richard admitted this, his voice cracked with emotion. "So, every time I can help someone in need, it is my way of making amends for failing my parents."

There. He had let it out. Very rarely did he ever speak of the past. Why should he? It was gone, it was over with, it was dust. Long ago Richard Grayson had learned that life was fluid, it was like a river flowing eternally forward, and no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you could never swim against the current, and go back the way you came, so why try?

His parents were dead, he had learned to accept that, even to live with the notion, but that didn't mean he enjoyed talking about it. To him, uncovering those long forgotten memories was an exercise in futility, and only lead to pain. They were memories best left in a dark corner of his mind, where they would be undisturbed, free to collect dust and lay forgotten with the passage of time.

"I'm sorry…" Sanjana said. Richard could hear the hesitation in her voice. "I had no idea."

"How could you?" Richard asked.

Richard moved past her, rounding the table, and standing opposite of where she was sitting. He stood facing the window, and took a moment to pull back the curtains and look at the sun filled world outside of his small motel room. His motorcycle rested in the parking space just outside of the room, the sunlight reflecting off of the chrome parts of the machine. It looked inviting sitting there, like it longed to be ridden. As he looked like it, Richard was overcome with a sudden urge to quickly gather up his things, and take off. He wanted to feel the wind whipping through his hair, the freedom of riding down the open road, the heat of the sun on his neck.

He wanted those things, but truthfully he would settle for anything, as long as it didn't include being cooped up in this tiny room, with this girl who was little more than a stranger to him.

Richard could hear her moving, but didn't turn to look and see what she was doing. He wanted to ignore her, hoping she'd take it as a hint and leave. Part of him still wanted to thank her for her help last night, but it was a small part of him, a part of him much smaller than the one that wouldn't mind seeing her go.

Richard grunted softly, unsure of what to do next, of how to politely ask her to leave. He let the curtains fall back into place, and closed his eyes for a moment, allowing darkness to envelope him. He listened to her movements within the room. She sighed softly, perhaps becoming frustrated with his silence, then he heard the rustle of fabric, what he assumed was the sound of her standing. He was listening to the soft swish of her sneakers, as she walked on the carpeted floor, and prayed she was making her way for the door.

But Richard realized that his prayer went unanswered when he felt a soft hand fall onto his shoulder, and gently tug at him. She was trying to get him to face her, but why? He sighed in resignation, and turned to her willingly enough, prepared to tell her that he wanted her to leave, that he had said all he could, and wasn't going to answer any other questions she might have.

Before a single word had crossed his lips, before he even had a chance to open his eyes, she did something that he was totally unprepared for.

She kissed him.

Though Richard did not see it, he knew it must've happened quickly. She had walked over to him, and reached up to place a hand on his shoulder, she wanted him to turn and face her, which he did. He was willing to bet that she hadn't expected for him to have his eyes closed, but somehow he thought that had made it easier for her. Even as he had turned toward her, Richard had felt her hand move from his shoulder, to the back of his neck.

The sensation of her touch was foreign, but not entirely unwelcome, and certainly not unpleasant. Her palm was soft and warm. Her fingertips, which caressed his neck gently, were delicate and cool, he could feel them exploring the texture of his skin. her grip on his neck tightened slightly, but not painfully so, and he felt himself being pulled forward, as well as being guided to bend down slightly.

He gave into her touch, and let himself be guided along, if only to find out what would happen next. As he opened his eyes, to look into hers, their lips met. It was a kiss that Richard had not expected. And because the kiss had taken him by surprise, he didn't resist. Though…. That wasn't the whole truth, because part of him didn't want to resist.

Her lips were soft and warm, and as Richard explored them he felt Sanjana respond to him with a tenderness he had never experienced before. Without thinking, he cupped her chin in his hand as the kiss became more intense. The scent of jasmine invaded his nostrils, and he found it intoxicating. She drew closer to him as their kiss continued, and Richard let it happen.

_Why?_

Why was he letting this happen? Why was he kissing this girl? He barely knew her. Granted, he was very attracted to her, but was that enough of a reason?

_Why?_

_Sanjana… She's pretty, she's smart, she's brave. She's wrong…. She's wrong…. This was wrong….._

Even as he stood there and kissed her, he knew it was wrong. There were no flashing neon signs that alerted him to this little factoid, he just felt that it was wrong. It was a feeling that he couldn't shake, that he couldn't avoid. It was a fundamental wrongness that he couldn't deny.

He pulled away from her slowly at first, to give her a warning as to what he was doing, then more quickly when she tried to continue the kiss. She moaned slightly at his effort to escape the lip lock, but finally relented, probably realizing that the moment was over.

Richard's head was buzzing, he was taken aback and at a loss for words… What in the world had made her?

"Why?"

That was the question that passed Richard's lips and after he asked it, he was annoyed that he did. They had been asking each other that question a great deal these past few minutes. Serving it back and forth to each other like the ball in a game of ping pong.

Sanjana only stood there before him and said nothing. She brought a hand to her lips, and touched them hesitantly, as if she might find them missing. Richard looked at the girl directly, and she purposely tried to avoid his gaze, but that did not stop him from seeing the confusion in her eyes.

"I only.. Wanted to thank you for everything you did last night… I might've gotten a little carried away…" She told him.

Richard could hear the anxiety in her voice, and could tell that she was having a hard time trying to figure out what to do next. He didn't want to make things awkward for her, so he spoke quickly and casually, hoping to lighten the mood.

"I should be the one thanking you, the way you came back and helped me, it really got me out of a tight spot…." Richard scratched the back of his neck. "You probably saved my life."

"It was nothing."

"No. It was something, it was a brave thing to do, and it surprised the hell outta me." Richard told her.

"Just like the kiss?" Sanjana asked.

"The kiss was…. It was… Something I wasn't expecting." Richard said. "It's not like I'm some big shot hero, I'm not Superman, I was only helping people who needed it. It was the right thing to do."

"I want to get to know you better," Sanjana suddenly blurted out.

"I'm just passing through, I'm not even from around here," Richard told her.

"There are ways to keep in touch, they have this thing called a telephone for instance."

Richard wasn't sure how to handle this. The more and more this situation progressed, the more he realized that his feelings lie elsewhere, and he didn't want to lead the girl to believe that things between them might develop in a romantic sense.

"Sanjana, there is someone back home that I care about, I think we should just be fri-" Richard started to say, before she interrupted him.

"Friends it is," Sanjana paused and raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't flatter yourself Mr. Grayson, sometimes a kiss is just a kiss."

* * *

Sanjana Adani sat alone in her bedroom, the room was located in the northeast corner of the single story house she shared with her family, the house itself being only a block away from the motel her family owned. Night had fallen, and it had been several hours since Richard Grayson had checked out of the Royal Arms. The only evidence that he had ever been there was sitting on the desk in front of her. 

That evidence included a photocopy of his driver's license, the room key he had turned in upon checkout (one of several copies her parents kept, and wouldn't miss), and the mask he had given her as a memento.

She had asked him for the last one, and had to bicker with him for a few minutes before getting it, he had finally given it to her with a few mumbled protests. She had left him after that, and had tried not to notice the sound of the motorcycle engine accelerating down the highway, as she helped to clean up the mess at The Stackhouse.

He had given her the address of a P.O. box in Jump City, California, along with the promise that if she wrote, he would return her letter. While she had taken the address, she wasn't sure she intended to write him. She had the feeling that if they did keep in touch, things would become awkward. The slip of paper was still in her apron, and even if she didn't write, she would probably keep it with the rest of her souvenirs.

She brought a hand up to her lips almost unconsciously, she touched them softly and they tingled where his lips had been. Part of her wondered what it would be like to kiss him again, part of her was curious about the girl he cared for, and the rest of her accepted the sad finality of it.

She knew she would never see him again. She knew she would never write. She knew that she would keep her souvenirs, and remember her adventure from time to time, and she knew that she would remember the kiss they shared.

Sometimes a kiss was only a kiss.

_But…_

Sometimes a kiss was something to remember….


	18. Chapter 17: If you Can't Stand The Heat

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG

**Chapter Spoilers:** None

**Disclaimer **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own stock in Sony."

**Foreword & Notes  
**Wow. It has been quite awhile since I last updated this story. I had to literally dust the cobwebs off of my notes. As we continue on, I plan to revise my previous chapters, to become more in tune to my current writing style. Hope you guys enjoy, and sorry for the wait.... I promise the next chapter will be longer, and filled with a bit more action... Read & Review... Beta, anyone?

**The Future** ... Is out there!

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

If you can't stand the heat...

_The journey is the reward. - Chinese Proverb_

_Dead and Gone T.I. featuring Justin Timberlake_

Virgil Hawkins was not a rash person. He did not act without thinking about the possible outcomes of those actions, nor did he make judgments before he had all available information regarding the choice he was about to make. But the more and more he considered the events that had just taken place between Richie and himself a few hours prior, the clearer the situation became to him.

Richie was letting his emotions affect his decisions. As brilliant as the guy was, he still had trouble thinking things through in a logical manner when the problem he was tasked with solving involved someone he cared for. Teresa Maza was someone they had been at odds with previously. Someone they had fought against, and risked their lives to bring to justice.

Though Virgil had helped her to be pardoned for her crimes as the Meta-Human criminal Talon, he still considered her a rogue factor in his life, and wasn't entirely sure that she could be trusted to look out for Richie's best interests, regardless of whatever feelings his friend may harbor for the girl. Besides, it had only been a scant few weeks, since Talon's reversion back into Teresa had taken place. Could Richie honestly say that he had gotten to know the girl to the very depths of heart in such a short amount of time?

Since leaving the Burger Fool, Virgil had ducked down a convenient alleyway to change out of his civilian garb, and don the uniform of his electrifying alter-ego Static. As of now he was flying high above the streets of Dakota City, surfing the naturally occurring electromagnetic waves present all around him as he would the waves of a deep blue ocean.

His hover disc was at his feet, and was the tool that aided him in his flight, normally it was a thin piece of pliable metal specially designed for him by Richie. It was composed of a blend of metals that made it lighter than steel, but infinitely more durable, and it certainly beat using manhole covers as a means of transportation as he used to do in his early days of crime fighting.

The sun was a bright and blazing yellow ball in the sky, and he flew westward into the path of the eventual sunset, ignoring the fluffy white clouds on the horizon and deep indigo sky that surrounded them, he instead focused on the hum and crackle of the white-hot electricity that he channeled into his hover disc.

The was flying without a purpose, trying to come to terms with what Richie had told him. Was it really possible that he had seriously considered the situation, and wanted to take a step back from the team they had formed together? Or was Teresa influencing his thoughts and actions with her own negative and bitter experiences with the Justice League and superheros as a whole?

It was hard to say and truthfully the only way he would know for sure is if he were to talk to them both, but he knew he wasn't quite ready to speak to them while they were together. Though Richie was quite adamant about the fact that he had not revealed their superhero identities to the girl, Virgil was afraid that it would only be a matter of time before Static and Gear were brought to light to the Maza girl for who they really were. And as worrisome as the possibility of Richie divulging the information to her was, the possible outcome of his choice to do so is what concerned Virgil more.

If Richie were to tell Teresa, also known as Talon, who they really were, it could be dangerous for the both of them, and their families. Though most of the Bang Babies had lost their powers or had opted for the reversion that would cure them of their powers while also relieving them of their deformities and allowing them to live a normal life, there were still a few out there that would certainly wish to cause them harm if the right opportunity presented itself. Moreover, they had also made enemies of a number of other nefarious characters in their travels who were not even part of the Big Bang, or their normal gallery of rogue Meta-Humans would would relish the chance at payback. The stakes were too high for both of them, and Virgil had to make sure that Richie was fully aware of the risks that could arise should he let such information slip...

_Who am I kidding?_

Richie is a verifiable genius and would've surely considered all of the angles and possible outcomes for his actions, and situations he may face when dealing with Teresa. Virgil stopped surfing the currents for a moment to consider the revelation that just dawned on him. As much as he might not like to admit it to himself, it was possible that Richie's idea had merit. Maybe the Justice League did deny Teresa Maza the grant of a scholarship, based solely on her actions in the past as the criminal Talon.

As much as Virgil hated to admit it, maybe his friend was correct, and was trying to clue him into the shades of gray that he was otherwise blind to. Chances were that Teresa didn't do anything at all to mettle with Richie's outlook on life, and he had come to the conclusions he had under his own merit.

Static hovered twenty feet above the streets below him. Traffic continued on unmolested and unaffected by his presence, as most of the civilians of Dakota City were used to his presence and random appearances in and around the metropolitan area. The traffic lights below him had cycled through the colors in their repertoire three times already, and still he hovered unmoving.

He had to accept the fact and face it fully, Richie wanted time off. That was the beginning and end of the subject. There were no shadowy conspiracies, no clandestine cover-ups, perhaps his friend was just growing up, and was ready to move on, and stop playing superhero. As much as he might not like the idea, Virgil decided to respect his decision.

Static moved forward once more, in a brilliant blaze of speed, trying to outrun the thoughts that chased him. For Virgil, being Static meant more than "playing" superhero, it was his calling and his passion. He could not abandon it, much as someone cannot stop breathing oxygen, Static was a fundamental part of his being.

As Static, he would protect those around him, and combat the petty crimes of man. Vigil had the utmost respect for law enforcement officers and the fact that they put their lives on the line everyday for what they believed in. But he knew he could never settle for just being a cop. Sometimes the justice system was a corrupt foul thing, and he could never be a working cog in the justice system as a cop. He knew that he was not above the law, but he also knew he was not a normal part of it either. He was someone that had to stand for what he believed in, and for what was good, and true, and right. Static could not be bought, or bargained with. He could not be corrupted, or tainted by the evils of man. And as Static, he had the anonymity to ensure that the people who he loved were never put into danger because of his actions.

He had left the urban sprawl in a blaze of light, and was entering the suburban areas of Dakota City, when his Shock Vox beeped unexpectedly. Static stopped flying again, and unclipped the Shock Vox from his belt. Though he didn't have an awesomely cool utility belt like Batman yet, he still had a couple of gadgets that were cutting edge.

The Shock Vox as it was originally designed used a pair of rudimentary walkie-talkies that Richie had modified with a longer range transmitter, and a rechargeable battery that Virgil could juice on the fly with a few volts of electricity. The new generation Shock Vox that Virgil currently used as Static was a totally different story all together. Richie, also known as Gear, had gotten his hands on a pair of Sidekick cellphones, and had removed all of the inner workings except for the LCD screen. He replaced all of the components with a custom designed computer interface and circuitry. This endowed the new Shock Vox's with more versatility.

The cellphone design of the device was fully intact, but upon juicing the device with a jolt of electricity the custom circuitry inside became active, and overrode the original computer operating system with one of custom design. It had access to police band radio transmissions and all points bulletins, as well as access to the nationwide criminal database, in addition to that, the device sported multilingual voice translation software, the ability to use any available communication network to relay calls and information, and it could not be tracked using Global Positioning Systems or other conventional means. It also had Bluetooth, and an advanced computer A.I and voice recognition software which allowed for hands free communications using the microphone and stereo headset embedded in his mask.

Though it was hard to look casual while hovering in mid-air, Static attempted to give it his best effort, he grasped the Shock Vox in both hands, and flipped up the LCD screen, while giving it a small jolt of electricity, his personal fingerprint that would inform the computer A.I. That it could communicate freely with him via wireless headset. Seeing the A.I. successfully engage, Static closed the LCD, and reclipped the device to his belt.

Static felt more at ease on the move, and started flying freely again before he began conversing with his computer counter-part.

"Sally, what's up?" Static asked.

"There has been a report of a fire in progress," the feminine A.I. responded in a cool and calm tone. Virgil briefly remembered his amusement after his first few encounters with Sally, as her voice was modeled to match that of the singer Beyonce, thanks to Richie, who thought the idea would be awesome.

"Can you give me more info?"

"The site of the fire is a large residential building in downtown Dakota City. Available information suggests that the building is home to nearly fifty occupants. D.C.F.D. has dispatched a fire brigade, and medical teams are also enroute, however 911 dispatch calls suggest that there are still people trapped inside the building."

Sally recited all available information with a calm poise that Virgil envied and wished that he could emulate. However, upon hearing the detailed report that Sally supplied, his blood ran cold, and he could feel the adrenaline surging through his system. He had to will himself to think logically, and detach himself from the situation. One of Virgil's greatest weaknesses as Static was that he sometimes identified too much with the people he was trying to protect, and that sometimes caused him a lapse in judgment. But on the other hand, it also gave him the strength to handle any adversities that he might face.

"Sally, give me a location, and try to contact Gear for back-up," Static ordered.

He waited impatiently for Sally to communicate the address, aware that every second counted in such a race against time. Fire was unforgiving, and unfeeling, it had no mind and no purpose other than consumption. And he knew that it would burn everything in its path to a smoldering black cinder unless the fire department was able to intervene in time, and even if they were able to abate the fire, there was no guarantee that they would be able to save the lives of the souls trapped inside.

"Haversham Deluxe Condominiums signaled the report of a fire, the building is located at the intersection of Spruce and Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd," Sally responded with a pause. "Attempting to contact Gear via Shock Vox, communication will be patched through to wireless headset when established." Static nodded to himself, a grim expression had overtaken his otherwise masked facial features.

He expelled a burst of power from his body, leaning to the southwest, he shot off like a bullet in an urgent race to the site of the fire..


	19. Chapter 18: Engulfed in Flames

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG-T

**Chapter Spoilers:**

**Disclaimer: **"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own a robot like WALL-E."

**Foreword & Notes:**

As stated in the Synopsis, this chapter is dedicated to all those brave men and women who risk their lives everyday, to safe innocents from the fires that plague us. Currently, wildfires are raging across the United States and many other parts of the world. Without the bravery of this people, how much would be lost to flames.

In other news, I post this newest chapter as a Birthday Gift to all of my readers, as it is my birthday. On to the story!

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Engulfed in Flames

_Firemen are going to get killed. When they join the department they face that fact. When a man becomes a fireman his greatest act of bravery has been accomplished. What he does after that is all in the line of work. They were not thinking of getting killed when they went where death lurked. They went there to put the fire out, and got killed. Firefighters do not regard themselves as heroes because they do what the business requires. - Chief Edward F. Croker_

_Superman – Five For Fighting_

He hovered high above the chaotic city street, on his electromagnetically charged glider, trying to make sense out of whole scene. Smoke-filled wind whipped past him in a fury, as if the viscous ebony substance were a hungry predator, hellbent on contaminating as much oxygen as possible, until finally losing cohesion and dissipating into the atmosphere.

During normal use, his hoverboard would hum with the crackling energy he fed it, which allowed it to stay aloft in the wild blue yonder. The sound of it had always soothed him, but it did little to calm his nerves now.

Below him, sawhorse partitions and roped stanchions had been set up in an attempt to cordon off the streets and keep the public a safe distance from the inferno, however curious onlookers were abundant behind those barricades, gawking at the mayhem and destruction, while eagerly trying to get photos or videos of the scene captured with their cell phones. He had always hated the way that such people, which were called curious bystanders by some and ill-mannered idiots by others like himself, went to such lengths to capture and chronicle human misery.

Television journalists were worse though, and among the vehicles owned by Emergency Medical Services and the Dakota City Fire Department he counted no fewer than five news vans, that had set up in a segregated media area to record and broadcast live events and report on them as they unfolded. Most of the on-air personalities who made the television spots were more concerned with their physical appearance and their ratings, then they were with the struggles, hardships and heroisms that were currently taking place. Each anchor person wanted to put their own spin on this fiery tragedy, hoping to boost their ratings and popularity among the viewers at home, all at the expense of the pain and suffering which now unfolded.

Occupants of the building littered the streets around the medical vans that had set up to help them. Some were being actively tended to by Emergency Medical Technicians who were trying to stabilize their respiratory systems with oxygen-enriched breathing apparatuses, while others sat staring at the scene with dirty faces that were plagued with a myriad of emotions, which they were experiencing as a result of the ordeals they had recently endured. Feelings of anguish, sorrow, pity and uncertainty could undoubtedly be recognized in the bloodshot eyes of the survivors by anyone keen enough to look.

Virgil had neither the time nor the mental fortitude to dwell on those who were already out of harm's way, he needed to push all of the distractions around him into the back of his mind and stay focused on his mission. The poor souls who were still trapped inside of the building surely faced doom within the barest of moments, unless a rescue could be attempted.

Below him the Dakota City Fire Department fought valiantly to keep the flames at bay, the men and women that made up the brigade had already tapped available water resources, and were displaying tremendous prowess and teamwork, by directing blasts of icy water into the flames at key points around the building. Fire hoses came alive as watery serpents, tamed and forced to perform at the whim of the brave soldiers who fought the blaze.

Thirty seconds had elapsed since he had arrived on the scene and he had yet to form or implement a plan of action, precious seconds ticked away as he remained idle, never to be relived or reclaimed, and his window of opportunity to make a difference was closing rapidly.

_Get your act together._

Scolding himself was only a waste of time. He needed to move!

"Sally, locate and isolate the D.C.F.D. radio frequency, and prepare to patch me into their communications network."

"Request acknowledged. Working." Sally responded.

Though he regularly tried to be a hero, he was not foolhardy enough to believe himself invincible, he could not run faster than the speed of sound, or dodge bullets and he certainly wouldn't be able to withstand the hellish temperatures that the fire now burned at. He would need the assistance of the D.C.F.D. If he was to be successful.

The building was a massive thing, comprised of 22 stories in all, featuring an Olympic-sized pool and state of the art fitness center. Even with his powers, Static had no hope of searching the tall glass and stone behemoth alone. He would have to coordinate his efforts.

"Radio frequency isolated. Link established. Real-time feed and hands-free communication can commence upon your request." Sally told him.

"Awesome. Have attempts to contact Gear been successful?" Virgil asked, staring at the flames and trying to summon his mettle.

"Negative. All attempts have failed. Shall I continue communication efforts?" Sally asked, her artificial intelligence delving to the heart of the matter without emotion or finesse.

"Standby all communications, save all resources to maintain radio link with D.C.F.D. Sally, begin real-time radio feed and hands-free communication on the isolated radio frequency." Virgil commanded.

Rather than respond verbally, Sally allowed the floodgates of radio chatter to open, and he suddenly found himself floating in a sea of voices.

"I don't care what those damn reporters want, they're not getting their cameras any closer." Said a gravelly and authoritative voice.

"This is Bartowski reporting in. Davenport and I've made it past the third floor, but I don't know how much higher we're going to get. We're starting to see stress cracks and fissures, the building is losing stability." Came a rapid report.

"Water crews, try to shift your attention to containing the fire on the current floors, we can't let it climb any higher." The same gravelly voice commanded.

Virgil scanned the crowd, but failed to see any white fire helmets in the mass of red ones. D.C.F.D. Officers wore white helmets, thereby making themselves easily visible to fire crews needing assignment or command.

"Charlie, we're reaching the five minute mark. This is one helluva beast, we're having enough trouble suppressing the collateral damage, there's no way we're going to stop this thing. It's reached burnout point." Came the voice of a woman, who sounded rather agitated.

"Do what you can to buy me a few more minutes, I'm not leavin' these little ones Bella." Came the gravelly reply of Charlie.

"Aye, Capt'n." Bella responded.

Virgil was frantic, a minute had elapsed since he had arrived on scene, and he had finally learned enough from the communications chatter to identify the person in charge, maybe now he could actually do something.

"Excuse me y'all, sorry to crash the party, but I'd like to lend a hand." Virgil spoke in cool drawl, trying to convey a sense of calm that he didn't actually feel.

The radio squawked to life as several people tried to speak at once.

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Who the hell is that?"

The voices were disjointed and confused. Instead of helping, Virgil had only been successful in making matters worse.

"Clear the radio!" Captain Charlie bellowed, followed by a cough and the squelch of the microphone. " Unknown speaker, identify yourself immediately."

"This is Static, sorry I'm not Superman, but if you lemme know where the trapped civilians are, I'm pretty sure I can get them outta that building in one piece." Virgil responded, sounding stronger than he felt.

"Static? You mean the black kid with electrical powers, kinda like Magneto from X-men?" Came a harried yet astonished reply.

"Jenkins, I ordered this radio clear, shut your damn mouth!" Captain Charlie yelled, sounding more like a Marine Drill Instructor than a Fire Captain. "Bella, report, peel your eyes to the sky, is the kid out there?"

"Aye Capt'n, he is, close enough to the damn building to roast marshmallows." Bella responded.

Virgil quirked an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic bit of humor in the response, but said nothing, nor did he back away from the building.

The funny thing was, that since she had mentioned the heat, Virgil finally started to feel it, it rolled off of the building in hazy waves, intensifying the heat of the day a thousandfold. Though he had not realized it before, he had been squinting the entire time he had been staring at the building. He was a little irked by failing to notice it sooner, he pulled his trusty goggles down over his eyes, to give them a bit of relief and allow himself to see better.

"Captain Charlie, I'm here to help, let me know where those kids are, so I can do something besides just floating here." Virgil told him as authoritatively as possible.

He was getting really frustrated and couldn't resist clenching his fist, he'd been here for over two minutes, and had done NOTHING, time was slipping through his fingers like errant grains of sand.

"Damn, okay, look, I don't really like you masked vigilantes, but it isn't about me." Captain Charlie told him. "There are three children trapped on the fifteenth floor, apartment 15 oh 5, I'm still two floors down, so if you think you can get 'em, then you're damn well free to try."

"Anyone know which window that apartment belongs to?" Virgil asked tensely.

"We had ladder crews just under it, and climbing up, before a concussion blast of flames and compressed gases forced us to move our rigs back, to try and douse the beast. We wanted to make another attempt, but the locking mechanism for one of the ladder segments was damaged in the explosion and our portable units won't extend that far." Bella chimed in. "15 oh 5 is easy to spot, there is a big cut out of Cookie Monster from Sesame Street plastered dead center in the glass."

Virgil needed no other information, he let loose a burst of energy, and rocketed up, scanning the windows above him as he ascended higher into the air.

Between the haze brought on by the fire, and the cloying smoke that billowed up from the center of the blaze on the lower floors, Virgil could barely see anything.

Virgil tapped a button on his headset to mute the hands-free microphone and radio feed.

"Sally, access the Dakota City Zoning Commission and try to locate blueprints for this building, we need to find apartment 1505, I can't get a visual on Cookie Monster," Virgil instructed his cyber sidekick, while shaking his head at the words he never thought he would utter.

"Acknowledged request, working to complete assigned task." Sally informed him.

Another few button taps, and he had regained the use of his microphone and radio up-link.

"-came outta nowhere, Davenport is down. Repeat Davenport was knocked out by a falling support beam and has lost consciousness, we need evac assistance now. We're trapped on the fourth floor." A frantic Bartowski reported over the radio.

Virgil grimaced, the situation was deteriorating more quickly than he could get a grasp on it. Either way the children were his main priority, the firefighters in the building had special equipment to help them withstand the flames, while the children had no such luxury.

"Fire Crew Alpha, grab the portable ladders, and try to establish a gangway to the fourth floor, we've gotta get those men out," Bella ordered.

"Copy that L.T., we're gonna hustle it up right now." Jenkins replied.

Virgil continued to ascend, finally reaching the fifteenth floor.

"Anyone know if this building has shatterproof windows? I might need to do some breaking and entering." Virgil asked.

Perhaps nobody had an answer for his question, but it didn't matter, he'd find a way to shatter the window if it meant the rescue of the stranded souls inside.

The flames had not yet reached the upper levels of the building, but the smoke still filled the air in copious amounts, and even as Virgil raced along the length of the building looking for the Cookie Monster, he tried to breathe as shallowly as possible, as not to aggravate his gag reflex.

"Blueprints located," Sally interrupted, disconnecting Virgil from the mayhem of the radio chatter. "Apartment 1505 is located in the Northeast corner of the building, it is a two bedroom domicile, each featuring a large bay-style window."

While Sally fed him facts, Virgil felt his pulse quicken as he layered on another burst of speed, and rounded the Northwest corner of the building heading East as quickly as possible.

"Sally, reconnect me to the isolated radio frequency, hands-free microphone active," Virgil commanded.

"-extending the gangway now L.T., we should have our boys out in a jiffy." Jenkins told Bella, uncharacteristically jovial despite the whole mess.

"Less talk, more hustle, got it Jenkins?" Bella told him.

"Lieutenant Bella? This is Static, I'm rounding the building to the Northeast side, and coming up on 1505. What's going on, why is this building burning up so quickly? What happened to the fire- suppression countermeasures?" He asked.

"Kid, you're asking me questions that I've got no time or answers for," Bella responded.

With Cookie Monster finally in his sights, Virgil slowed his speed to a crawl, and risked a look down. Sinewy orange flames climbed up the side of the building like a menacing group of spiders, intent on devouring everything in their path.

Three minutes had elapsed since he had arrived on scene, and he found the place he was looking for, now the dilemma became how to gain access to the apartment. He moved closer to the window and peered inside the room as best he could, though the glass was tinted to diffuse the sunlight which shone through daily, Virgil was able to ascertain that there was nobody near the windows.

A fit of coughing came across the radio waves, then the parched voice of Captain Charlie resounded triumphantly. "I've got the kids!"

And before anyone could reply, all hell broke loose.

It was as if some overzealous demon was fueling this fire and was unhappy with the current level of destruction it had wrought. Rather than being satisfied with mediocrity, the demon seemed intent on spawning a juggernaut of a fire. An explosion rocked the streets, and shook the crumbling building, further adding to the melee on the streets below him.

Virgil glanced down, struggling to keep his balance as a feeling of vertigo tried to overtake him, he watched people scramble back away from the fire lines and the barricades. Though the pedestrian barricades had been set up almost 200 feet away from the site of the fire, the curious bystanders below no longer felt safe and comfortable enough to gawk at the pyre that the Haversham Deluxe Condominiums was quickly becoming.

Another blast roared out into the early afternoon, quickly and fiendishly chasing away any naive and hopeful thoughts of containing the fire or putting an end to it. Superheated air finally caused the tinted glass windows on several floors to reach their limits; when another volley of explosions shook the buildings, the windows broke, sending wickedly razor sharp shards of glass in a free fall towards the city streets below. Most of the crowds and evacuees were located on the side of the building that Virgil had just come from, and he prayed that none of them would be seriously injured.

Since the windows were tinted, there was some chance that the glass had metallic properties, but if he were to try and catch all of the glass pieces in his energy web, he would be completely drained, and he suspected that there was hardly enough time for a recharge. Below him, emergency personnel scurried away from the building, trying to avoid the bits of glass that came raining down from the sky.

"Get away from the building!" Came the frantic yell over the radio.

"Move the people back! Somebody get the damn reporters back!" Yelled another voice in the jumble.

"Jenkins here, I'm still moving up the gangway, things are getting worse, but I'm not letting those two down, Bartowski owes me twenty bucks!"

"Firefighters, clear the channel, essential chatter only. Your gear will protect you from the glass, help any civilians who have serious injuries, fire crews stand firm! Let's keep those hoses pumping, we're not done here yet!" Lieutenant Bella screeched over the noise, trying to restore a semblance of order to the situation.

Virgil took her words to heart, and moved back to the windows of 1505, once more peering past the smiling visage of the bluest monster known to man, and searching the room to make sure nobody would get injured when he pulled his latest stunt.

The room beyond the glass appeared to be the master bedroom, as it was adorned in comforting hues of brown and purple, the color scheme obviously a compromise between husband and wife. Nobody appeared to be inside the room.

Virgil started to compress all of the electromagnetic energy that was held inside of him, it cascaded through his chest, into his arms, and then finally into the fingertips of his gloved hands. He held his hands out towards the window, and expelled the energy out past his outstretched fingers.

Electricity extended out from his fingertips like quicksilver and raced towards the glass, latching onto the frame of the window. The bay window was three feet tall, and five feet wide and the energy that Virgil expelled encompassed the entire window frame. Once the frame was fully enveloped in his energy, Virgil yanked his arms back, pulling away from the building. He ripped the tortured metal frame and window from the building with such force, that it exceeded what Virgil had been expecting. Vibrations were his enemy, and while his plan had been to rip the window from the building without damage, he realized his failure as a spiderweb of cracks grew from stress points around the frame, causing the glass to further fragment and finally shatter. Though, thankfully most of the shards fell inward, and harmlessly onto the carpet of the master bedroom, and wayward pieces that remained were entrapped within the powerful charge of his static electricity, which gave his earlier theory credence, the tinted glass did have metallic properties. The frame itself had not been entirely ripped free from the stone body of the building, it was a twisted and gnarled thing now and Virgil left it alone, no longer needing to manipulate it, he had fulfilled his intentions in a roundabout way. Cookie Monster had also been torn asunder in the Armageddon he had dispensed, flakes of blue cardboard wafted into the air, while the soul of the happy monster surely found its way to heaven.

"Captain Charlie, if you've got those kids, bring them to the master bedroom, because it's time to get the heck outta dodge," Virgil yelled into the mouthpiece of his microphone.

"No need to tell me twice Kid, I'm getting our butts in gear." The commanding Captain Charlie replied.

Virgil only hoped that he could make good on his promise. Through the stress of the morning and the confrontation this afternoon at lunch with Richie, he was weary. He cast his gaze around the room, through his purple-tinted goggles, trying to find a means of escape for the lot of them. Provided that they all made it through this ordeal in one piece, he planned to head home and take a nice long nap.

The bed was his best bet, it featured a large sleigh-style frame, that was more than perfect for what he was going to attempt.

"Man, after today, they won't be able to say that the strangest thing they ever saw fly was an elephant, will they?" Virgil asked himself idly.

There was a loud pounding at the bedroom door, as a fire ax burst through the flimsy plywood. A few seconds later a heavily gloved fist, and an arm that was protected by flame retardant cloth burst through the hole in the door, widening the fissure caused by the ax, and further splintering the cream-colored wood.

"This is Jenkins, I've found Bartowski and Davenport. Chang and I are bringing them back to the gangway now." Jenkins squawked over the channel, raising other voices to join him in a chorus of heated conversation.

This time, Virgil turned them out, without turning off his headset. He watched as the gloved fist grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open, the arm snaked free of the hole in the door, and a bear of a man shouldered his way into the room. Captain Charlie was easily 6'5" tall and every bit the giant that his gravelly voice suggested. Though the bulk of his fire gear probably contributed to his size, he had a barrel chest and broad shoulders. His facial features were chiseled and hard, his blue eyes shone in the smoke-filled room like pieces of glacial ice, and his hair was a mop of unruly red curls.

Though Virgil only hazarded a guess, it seemed as if he had given both his primary and secondary breathing gear to the children for their personal use. One child was slung over his right arm like a sack of potatoes, and the other in the crook of his left arm, with little white legs dangling, they were both shielded from view by the improvised protectants that the Fire Captain had given the kids. Apparently he had found two large towels, and doused them with water, covering their heads and bodies as quickly as possible.

Captain Charlie moved to the window never breaking his stride, and regarded Virgil with a quizzical look on his face.

"Kid, there ain't no elevator, how do you suppose we're going to get down from here?" Asked a dual set of gravelly voices, one from directly in front of him and the other from over the radio.

"Simple, get on the bed and I'll take care of the rest." Virgil told him, trying to remain as serious as possible, now wasn't really the time for jokes.

"Bullocks to that, this isn't the time for a lark, we've got precious little time here." Captain Charlie scolded him.

"I'm not foolin' around, and I wouldn't joke while there are lives at stake, NOW GET ON THE DAMN BED!" Virgil roared, channeling the anger he had previously suppressed after his argument with Richie, and directing it toward the bear of a man.

Captain Charlie decided not to waste anymore time apparently, and was across the room in a single bound. He dove onto the bed, and settled himself over the children as protectively as he could. He tried to hush their muffled cries with sincere reassurances, yet Virgil had to tune them out, and focus once more on the problem at hand, getting them to safety.

As if in grim anticipation of his fate, the radio channel had gone silent and the roar of the fire fell to a crackling hum. Virgil took a deep breath, held it for a bare second, and expelled the stale air from his lungs. He began to mumble a prayer as he once again drew energy to his fingertips. He dug deep within himself to tap at every last reserve of energy he held, as he could not live with failure. Memories of every joy, every sorrow, every angry confrontation and every bray of laughter surfaced within his mind, and he forced those memories to fuel him, to lend their strength to to the electrical energy that built within him.

Finally, as it coalesced around him and he felt himself brimming with power, could hear his bones humming with the righteous song of bottled lightning, he channeled it out into his hands which were clenched into fists, and it burst outward in twin beams of effervescent and dazzling light. The beams shot out, powered by his body and driven by his will to envelop the metal-framed sleigh bed in ivory energy. Virgil raised his arms slightly and the bed lifted off of the soot-caked carpet. He slowly started to back away from the building, pulling the bed along with him.

The bed and its passengers cleared the broken window safely, and continued to float in midair, buoyed by his powers. He guessed he was easily supporting a quarter ton of weight and this is where things got tricky, because he was quickly losing steam and still had to deliver the trio safely to the medical teams on standby, which were located on the other side of the building.

He turned West and started flying in the direction that he had came from. The bed trailing little more than two feet behind him now, he saw the Northwest corner on the building, and leaned into the curve. The bed wobbled a bit during the turn, but righted itself again after Virgil pulsed another bolt of energy into it, thereby tightening his grip on the bedroom furniture.

Below him, a hundred upturned faces watched the sky as he leaned once more to his side, and started flying away from the building, toward the medical units stationed the furthest away from the fire scrimmage line. Gasps, shouts and cheers erupted both on his radio and from the crowd below.

With an ambulance, and a medical team waiting anxiously below them, Virgil allowed himself and the sleigh-style bed to slowly descend into the crowd. Once the legs of the shiny silver bed hit the ground, he sighed in relief as the heavy weight of their lives was lifted from his shoulders.

He scanned the crowd, and saw a blonde-haired woman in fire gear racing towards the foursome. Virgil descended lower, until his hoverboard was merely a foot off of the ground, then stepped off of the disc onto the street. The energy in the board faded away and it fell onto the tarmac. Now street-level with the chaos, Virgil felt drained, and fell back into the arms of one of the medical technicians rushing to assist them, promptly passing out shortly afterwards.

_Five minutes..... _

He thought as the world faded to black.


	20. Chapter 19: After the Blaze

**Author:** A.R. Fredrick

**Archive:** With Permission Only

**Chapter Rating:** PG-T

**Chapter Spoilers:**

**Disclaimer:**"If I owned Teen Titans, I'd also own an Alienware Laptop.... Oh, wait! I do own an Alienware Laptop, does this mean I get Titans too?"

**Foreword & Notes:**

Sorry for the long delay between updates. I won't give you a long list of excuses, or lame reasons why it took so long for this chapter to see the light of day. I'll only say, that I didn't want to force the writing and have the quality suffer.

So, if I've got any of my old reviewers still reading this, let me know what you think. Sorry we haven't heard from Robin in a few chapters, but honestly, how interesting is riding across the States on a motorcycle? This chapter was a tad difficult to write, as I am still debating a bit on the pairings. Wanna help? Let me know what you'd like. Beast Boy/Starfire and Static/Terra, or Beast Boy /Terra and Static/Starfire. Keep in mind that BB already had a shot with Terra and was unable to help her past her ghosts, so Static may have a better chance at that, as he has a few ghosts of his own.

Also, please check my profile for more great stories! Including a continuation of the Avatar Movie, and an awesome Naruto fic that takes place before the Kyuubi attack, and chronicle the events the lead up to war, as well as something that will change the life of our favorite hero forever!

Lastly, please know that I do plan to continue to review prior chapters, so check my profile for updates.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

After the Blaze

_Our talents are the gift that God gives to us... What we make of our talents is our gift back to God. - Leo Buscaglia_

_Young Forever – Jay-Z feat. Mr. Hudson_

While Richard continued his trek toward Gotham and Virgil busied himself moonlighting as a firefighter, Starfire used her power of flight to flee the Tower, she flew heedlessly and without active thought as to destination, speed, or the world around her.

All she wanted was escape. She wanted to get away from the oppressing atmosphere of the Tower. Without Richard, her energetic and colorful Robin, the building they called home was a dull and lifeless shell of its former self. She missed his random smiles, his sly wit and jovial sense of humor. Everyone thought him to be serious, moody and constantly driven by his desire to seek out the seedier elements of the city, however she had seen the other side of him, though he regularly hid it away like some precious gem, she knew it existed and the idea of his smile gave her courage even during her bleakest moments.

A small voice had spurned her flight this day, it had been whispering in the back of her mind since she had been roused from her slumber by Victor this morning, when her Cyborg friend had informed her of Richard's departure, she had tried not to take the news to heart, or allow her worries to worm their way into her mind and plant seedlings of doubt.

But after the impromptu meeting of the Titans and brief discussion concerning what to do about their missing leader, she had broken down. Why? Because they, her teammates and friends, were prepared to do nothing but give Richard the space and time he requested, in hopes that he would sort out whatever troubling thoughts he harbored which were plaguing him.

To Starfire, this was unacceptable, they were supposed to be a team. A unit which stood together to face whatever came their way! But by allowing Robin to ride off into the night on some rogue's quest for redemption was foolish and ill-conceived.

She tried to convince herself that was the case anyways. A part of her, the logical part that had lost the battle of will against her emotions, knew that she SHOULD honor Richard's wishes, but all of the unknown variables of the situation did not rest well with her. Though he had not been gone that long, she found herself full of questions for which she had no answers.

Where's Richard...? What made him leave...? Why not involve his friends...? What was he planning to do...? Why didn't he tell her that he was leaving...? When would he return...?

All she had to rely on was the secondhand information that her friend Raven had relayed and while she trusted the sorceress with her life, the questions that rattled around in her mind, like the last few beans in the bottom of a coffee can, would not be assuaged by the answers that the girl with the feathery moniker had given her. Nor would her rampant emotions be quelled by assumptions or speculations.

She had been flying at full speed for almost ten minutes without sparing a glance to the world below her. Though her forward momentum was still propelling her, she righted herself from a horizontal position to a vertical one, in order to better gauge her bearings and take stock of the world below her.

She had left the urban sprawl of downtown Jump City behind her, passing the business and industrial districts as she flew, as of now she was at the edge of the commercial area, if she were to fly for another five minutes, she would be well into the residential areas and an additional ten minutes would see her well beyond city limits.

Starfire took a deep breath, within the fabrics of her psyche she knew that if she were to leave the city she would not stop flying, she would continue on while allowing her burning desire to locate Robin to fuel her flight.

"It is likely that doing so.... Would be most unwise," she murmured thoughtfully.

While she floated in midair like an errant feather, she took in more of the world around her. The day was pleasantly bright and sunny, fluffy white clouds dotted the horizon like whimsical puffs of cotton candy and the sky itself was the most vibrant shade of Robin's egg blue.

Robin, again! Would the Gods not even grant her the smallest mercy of allowing her mind to abstain from such thoughts of the man? Must they allow his image to appear in her mind so randomly, until she is driven to madness by remembrances of days past?

She needed more time to think, she needed solace. As if by the grace of heavenly divination, she was granted an epiphany. Nearby there was a park that the Titans would sometimes frequent when Victor, Garfield and Richard were overcome with the need to play football.

Set away from the lined football field and rows of steel stadium-style bleachers, which were giving off a cheery twinkle in the warm sunlight, was a well maintained and manicured garden.

If one were to have visited this area several years ago in hopes of taking a walk in the garden, they would have found themselves sorely disappointed as it did not exist, the area had been nourished to life with the help of the Titans, shortly after the formation of their team, they had banded together to rid the neighborhood of the drug dealers and gangs which called the streets their home.

After the riff-raff had been expunged, they had sought help from the city council to implore the citizens which lived in the once decrepit area to take pride in their homes once more. As an act of faith the Titans had converted an abandoned industrial complex into the park that Starfire now hovered over. In fear of being overshadowed by a group of mere teenagers, the mayor of Jump City had pledged money that was previously unallocated within the city budget for improvements to the park, which included the addition of the football field, as well as a nearby community center.

None of that mattered to her. She didn't care that some aging politician had tried to transform their good deed into a seedling that would sprout a new campaign, the codger was vying for reelection anyways (as Raven had sarcastically put it) and was looking for any publicity he could get. What mattered to her was that the park still withstood the testament of time, that the neighborhoods surrounding it had been reborn and had not succumbed to the darker underbelly of metropolitan life once more, and that together the Titans had made a difference. The process had been long and sorted, but the end results were well worth the effort. Mothers no longer lived in fear that their children would end up dead before they finished their adolescence, drug dealers no longer peddled their goods, and gang members no longer held turf wars to determine whose colors were more prideful.

Pushing away thoughts of past triumphs, the alien girl flew toward the garden, using her thoughts and the power of flight which was gifted to her species. Hovering silently above fertile flower beds and graveled pathways, she tried to take in the beauty of it all from an aerial perspective, however her thoughts were too chaotic to be brought to peace by aerial views of splendor. Accepting this, she let the gravity of the planet slowly take hold of her again, and drag her back towards the ground.

Safe on terra firma once more, she was assaulted by the perfume of the land. Seedlings and saplings had bloomed in the spring, and gave way to a plethora of colorful and fragrant blossoms, which were as alien to the cityscape as she had once been to Earth.

The princess, now displaced from her tower, strolled along the garden path, comforted by the soft crunch of gravel beneath her violet boots, the steady rhythm of her footsteps, and the fragrant air and cheery chirping birds which roosted in the canopies of the trees that shaded her path.

_Ah, yes, this was the wondrous peace that was missing... _

She spied a plain marble bench in the distance and began walking toward the lonely piece of furniture, intent on resting on the bench until well after the sunset. Perhaps, if she waited, the sky would be clear enough to grant her a view of the heavens.

During her time on Earth, she had learned that the inhabitants had a rather quaint and charming custom. The custom, wishing on a shooting star, was one that had made her smile and giggle with delight upon discovering. On her planet, she had been subject to a stern upbringing, in which she had been forced to endure lessons in science, mathematics, history, philosophy, diplomacy and even the art of warfare. Though many envied her station as a Princess, they did not realize the burden she was born to bear, in the expectation that she would one day rule her world, and lead its people.

As a result of this, she had been forced to make her imagination and childhood take a backseat, due to her royal obligations, and had not been allowed the chance to laugh, play and partake in the merriment normal children took for granted. So, when she came to Earth, she decided to immerse herself in the culture, history, society and superstitious customs which the Earthlings held dear. She had learned to wish on a shooting star and pray for her fondest desire, because of her need to acclimate, and now found herself praying to see a shooting star after nightfall, in hopes that it might grant her wish.

Turning to sit on the bench, she cast her jade eyes to the sky, and though she had contemplated cloud watching, the shrill squawk of a bird drew her gaze in the direction she had come from. It was sailing on the horizon toward her, its wings were frantically flapping, as if the avian creature were intent on keeping a dinner date with a field mouse.

Starfire was not surprised by the timely appearance of the animal, and as it drew closer her budding suspicions were rewarded, due to the fact that the bird was of a greenish hue. She had learned from experience that a green animal acting strangely usually indicated that Beast Boy was prowling. She did not mean to imply that the changeling had bad intentions by seeking her out, however she did believe that he had rather poor timing, as she did not aspire to socialize at this point and time.

As she watched the bird approach she tried to school her features, so that she would not appear to be in a foul mood upon his arrival. Whatever she was feeling, the idea of taking it out on her friends did not bode well with her, as it would do nothing but put a wedge between them. As she sate idly on the bench, the bird drew closer, finally circling in the sky above her.

The bird, better known as Beast Boy, squawked several times while flying in a holding pattern above her head. This too did not surprise her, as Garfield was prone to letting his feelings guide his actions, and as a result of this, sometimes forgot that he was not able to communicate using conventional speech while in morphed in animal form.

"Friend Beast Boy, please come down from there and join me if you wish to talk, as I do not understand you," the girl shouted to him.

The bird cawed at her in response and slowly began a decent toward the ground. Across from the bench where she was sitting was a Japanese maple tree. The plant was small, dwarfed by the other trees which held residence around it, however it stood out from the crowd on proud display, as its leaves were an a bold shade of red. Apparently Beast Boy shared her sentiment in some form or another, as he came to a landing by diving toward the tree, flaring his wings approximately two feet above it, then dropping onto one of the branches with practiced ease, his clawed talons gripping the wood firmly.

Garfield Logan had chosen the body of a bird of prey, one of the airborne predators of this world, he had told her this animal was called an osprey, and that he favored the beast because its evolved traits made it highly adept at catching fish. Though the changeling was vegetarian by nature, the fish catching skills of the osprey were still helpful to him, as the bird had excellent vision and was used to flying over the ocean to retrieve its meal, the form gave Garfield the chance to fly several miles out to sea, and swim back in the form of a dolphin, which he insisted was one of the most relaxing and rewarding experiences his powers had ever granted him.

The boy studied her for a moment, before letting go of the maple branch and fluttering toward the ground. Garfield issued a shrill and piercing warning cry upon landing on the gravel-laden ground, and Starfire tightly shut her eyes, as she knew what was coming next. Trying to shut out the world, she quickly started to hum a Tamaran lullaby and plugged both of her ears with her pointer fingers.

Usually, Starfire was able to ignore the sounds that Beast Boy made while shapeshifting, however this was too difficult to accomplish in such a tranquil environment, and because of this she had to take other measures to drown out the noise he made while changing forms. She hated to admit it, but the whole process still unnerved her slightly, along with making her a little nauseous. Being aware of this, he had warned her in advance, so she could take measures to distract herself. She knew it was a little foolish of her to react this way, but she likened it to the fact that she had never changed forms, and was disturbed by the process because it seemed unnatural to her on an innate level.

"Kori... Star..... Starfire!" Garfield called.

Upon hearing him call her name, she risked opening her eyes to take a peek, and was rewarded with the sight of her friend Garfield standing casually on the path before her. His was running his gloved hands through his hair, his fingers intent on coming through the green mane, in order to make sure that it maintained it usual unbridled appearance. The gray gloves gave way to his black and purple jumpsuit and matching combat boots, though Starfire noticed that the emerald-skinned boy seemed somewhat out of breath from his flight, she was quite pleased that he did not seem worse for wear otherwise.

She pulled her fingers out of her ears, gave the boy a friendly wave, and let them drop to her lap. Her eyes widened when he smiled at her, but as she looked at him, she became suspicious regarding his presence once more.

"Garfield, what are you doing here?" Starfire asked while quirking an eyebrow at the boy.

"Erm..... Uh.... I came for a picnic?" The changeling replied, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"Then where is the meal that you shall be dining upon?" She asked, refusing to let her guard down just yet.

At this, Garfield paused and brought a hand to his chin, rubbing it absentmindedly while contemplating his answer.

"Dang, I must've left it at the Tower," Garfield chuckled. "You know, Cy always says I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached."

Though she wasn't sure if his explanation was truthful or not, she decided not to press the matter further, as it would only serve to frustrate them both, and possibly embarrass the boy if his real intentions were discovered.

"Can I sit with you?" He asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

At a loss for words, she just nodded her approval and scooted slightly to the left, to allow him a larger area to rest on. They sat quietly for a few minutes, and as the silence dragged on, it became more and more uneasy, as neither of them were accustomed to such subdued behavior.

"You know, with all the flowers and stuff, the garden turned out okay, didn't it?" Garfield asked her quietly.

"Most definitely," she answered, allowing her lips to purse, then form a timid smile. "The flowers are bright and wonderful, they smell delightful as well. It truly has become a haven of nature!" Starfire exclaimed in happiness and triumph.

A genuine smile is always contagious, and because of this, Garfield found himself smiling at her exuberant display.

"Look, promise you won't get mad at me?" Garfield asked, letting his smile melt into a small pout.

"Perhaps," Starfire replied, narrowing her eyes slightly at the boy. "What did you do?"

"Nothin' really, it's just that.... Well.... Um ..... I didn't really come all the way out here for a picnic," he admitted.

_Ouch..._

Man, did he ever have a headache. It felt like someone had taken a hammer, had then mistaken his thick head for a giant block of wood, and had driven a couple dozen nails into it. Either that, or he really needed to cut back on the sugar, because the crashes were getting kinda harsh.

While he was coming back to the land of the living, his eyes were firmly closed, and his head still swam. He tried to remember what he had been doing earlier, before he had taken his nap, but things were a little too muddled, and he couldn't get a grip on past events. He felt as if his memories had been shrouded in a dense layer of fog, and he had become lost in the misty soup, while trying to retrieve his missing recollections.

"When's the kid going to come around?" A gruff voice inquired.

"I dunno Capt'n, but I don't think we should try and force him to wake up, who knows what he'll do if he is startled. He might lash out." A woman answered.

"He's kinda scrawny, I doubt he'd cause too much trouble." The gruff guy spoke again.

"He may be a bean pole, but he also has super powers," the woman snapped. "Our gear may be flame retardant, but it isn't designed to stand up to the likes of the kid."

"Sally.... Quit your yakking, I'm trying to catch some snooze." He told both of the offending voices. It was bad enough that his head hurt, and he didn't really remember where he was, why was everyone seemingly intent on waking him up?

The fog around his memories started to lift, and he remembered the events that had previously taken place. He remembered getting the emergency call from Sally, waiting indecisively while trying to figure out how he could best be of assistance, and then rushing in headfirst to save people from the burning building. But after that, he could not remember anything, his mind drew a blank. He wasn't even sure if his rescue attempt had been successful or not.

"Kid, you better get off you keister," the gruff voice shouting at him. "I may owe you for saving our bacon, but I'm not gonna just sit here while you cool your jets. There's a whole gaggle or reporters out there that want a piece of you, and we've got better things to do then babysitting your butt."

Virgil Hawkins, clad in his Static gear, opened his eyes to the world around him. He realized he was on his back, laying on a stretcher. He glanced around at the metal-lined interior. From what he could tell, he was in the patient transport area of an ambulance. This fact was further affirmed by the storage cabinets to the left of him, which seemed to hold all sort of healing gadgets and devices, and the narrow metal benches to the right of him supporting his chatty occupants.

He sat up slowly,while peeling off his goggles and trying to fight off a wave of dizziness that was attempting to overtake him. He was happy to see that his mask was still properly in place and completely intact, and other than the splitting headache and case of cotton mouth, he was feeling okay.

"What happened?" He asked, turning to face his companions.

The man was burly, and appeared to look somewhat cramped in the tightly enclosed space. He had a full beard that was starting to gray, and a black head of hair. He could've been olive-skinned for all Virgil knew, however he was covered in ash and other dirt, the only parts of his entire face that were not black were his blue eyes and white teeth. They were both eerily prominent given the circumstances. Virgil couldn't tell for sure, but half of his gear seemed to be missing. All he wore was a plain black shirt, red suspenders, and yellow firefighter pants with huge cargo pockets, along with shiny black boots..

Sitting next to him was a woman with deep red hair, full pink lips and a pixie-like nose. Her hair was cropped short, but was still quite attractive, and did not fall far past her shoulders. Her bangs were soft and framed her face naturally. Her eyes shimmered as she appraised him, they were a soft jade color, obviously full of concern for him. The rest of her body was covered in bulky firefighter gear, as she seemed to be sporting the type of jacket which the man was missing, in addition to the pants and boots.

Neither of them spoke for a minute, and while they were not wearing helmets, or anything else that would readily identify them as officers, Virgil knew that these two were Captain Charlie, and Lieutenant Bella.

"Are the kids alright?" Virgil asked, pressing them through their silence for more answers.

"They're fine, your little stunt with the bed may've been crazy, but you got everyone out," Bella told him. "Including Capt'n Courteous here."

Captain Charlie glared at Bella, obviously looking for a witty retort to her statement, he was only able to snort in the end however, as the time for a quip had passed.

"Then what happened?" Virgil asked.

"You fell to the concrete like a ton of bricks and passed out." Charlie interjected.

"Wow." Virgil said. "Um, that's never happened to me before."

"It was probably the heat, it can eat away at you pretty quickly, leave you feeling weak and light-headed, even if you don't suffer any burns." Bella offered.

"Yeah, I get what you're saying, it makes sense, since I'm dying of thirst," Virgil told them.

"Well then, how about the three of us get the hell outta this truck and see if we can wrangle you up a bottle of water?" Charlie asked.

Without waiting for a reply, Capt'n Charlie stood up and inched his way back to the rear doors, quickly throwing them open, and bailing out of the back of the ambulance. Bella broke out into a hearty belly laugh as she witnessed his retreat. She turned back to Static, whose eye began to twitch, as he had observed the entire spectacle and giggled a bit himself.

"I suppose it is a bit hard to believe, but he's a little freaked out by enclosed spaces." Bella said.

Outside, the Captain disappeared, but Virgil could still hear the shouts of several men and women still at work, all united in a group effort to ensure that the fire did not endanger anyone else. Actuators pulled the ambulance doors closed once they had fully swung open and reached the end of their arc, muffling the commotion outside, and closing off the rest of the world. The chaos was distorted even more by the rows of humming florescent lights which lined the sides of the transport area, and bathed them both in alabaster light.

"Huh, really? How's he made it as a firefighter then?" Virgil asked.

"Well, there's a switch in his mind I guess. He does what needs to be done to keep everyone he can safe, and doesn't let the little things bother him, until the fire has been put out."

"So, you guys got it under control already?" Virgil asked, referring to the fire. "How long have I been out?"

"I'd wager almost two hours," Bella told him.

Two hours?! He was going to be late for dinner again, which meant he would not only be responsible for the after dinner dishes, but also get stuck with reheated leftovers. Yuck. Right now, there were bigger fish to fry though. He turned to face Bella, letting his legs dangle over the side of the stretcher.

"Any idea how the fire got started?" He asked her, trying to keep his focus.

"We've got a couple of leads given the intensity of the event, but right now the building is still too unstable to enter and investigate," She paused. "We've got to wait and see, may sure no more sparks pop up. But, my gut tells me that someone started this thing intentionally."

Knowing that he wouldn't get any other answers tonight, he quickly changed topics.

"If I can get a hand finding my board, and a bottle of water, I think I'll be good to go," Virgil told her, while raising his arms above his head to stretch. "But, I'll keep in touch, in case you find out anything interesting."

"If there is foul play, we've gotta let the Police handle it," Bella told him.

"Yeah. Maybe, but if there is a Bang Baby involved, then I need to know about it." Virgil replied, his features set in a determined scowl.


End file.
